Tumgik
#realized i should probably start tagging my works in progress to have things more organized. maybe
penxil · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pain
7 notes · View notes
Text
Fic Masterlist
Because Tumblr search features are shit. Fandoms, Fics, and Series are organized in alphabetical order. Each link will send you to the Tumblr version but there will be a link to the AO3 version within that post. If you would rather go straight to AO3, my account is linked in the post pinned on my blog.
Assassin's Creed:
Of Blades and Parchment Series
Tumblr tag: #Of Blades and Parchment
Altmal AU where Malik never became an assassin and instead works as a crippled bookseller. Series is in progress.
DPxDC
Two Crickets (My addition is only 646 words but idk about the ones before it)
no tag
An addition to a prompt by @/ailithnight and writing by @/omnicrafts and @/atiyasnake
The GIW has had Danny for an undeterminable amount of time. The strain is finally more than he can handle and he body hops into a brain dead clone, R13. Danny thinks he is having a nice dream. Kon is worried for the escaped clone he found in the middle of a field.
TW: mentions of tortue
Here's Where You'll Stay (3082 words, 1 chapter)
Tumblr Tag: #Here's Where You'll Stay
"As John stared at the door preparing to get his face mauled, he couldn’t help but incredulously complain that this was not how he wanted his weekend to go. He had plans! He supposes that he would be willing to put them on hold for Phantom’s sake, but he wasn’t agreeable to the incoming face mauling. "
When Phantom comes down with Core Sickness it's up to John Constantine to save the ghost from fading.
Nothing Says "True Love" Like Being Given The Soul of Your Murderer (1510 words, 1 chapter)
Tumblr Tag: #nstllbgtsoym
Dead on Main ship. Addition to a post by @/nelkcats
"Another snarl caused him to lose his staring contest with the Bat. Nightwing was now standing between the two of them and appeared to be trying to placate the crime boss while Red Robin made the bloody stupid decision of trying to sneak up behind him. Red quickly paid the price for his folly, finding himself flat on his back pinned underneath Hood's boot while he honest to God snapped at Nightwing like a rabid dog.
"It's my gift! He gave it to me. Now fuck off before I m̶a̷k̸e̸ ̵y̶o̸u̶."
Yeah. Someone should probably interfere before they pissed him off anymore.
"You should corral your kids before one of em' loses a hand."
"Hngh." Batman leaves to break up the fight with Nightwing's aid. Hood scampers off to one of the corners of the cave, cradling the violet ball in his gloved hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It sounded like he was purring. John was suddenly very tired."
Rending Flesh From the Bone (3093 words, 1 chapter)
Tumblr Tag: #RFFTB
Dick wasn't so sure about Jason's "gut feeling", but what are brothers for if not to support each other during paranoia episodes? Now, deep underground in an abandoned subway tunnel, Dick is starting to have regrets as he watches the scene before him.
TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text
Slap a Bow on It (4752 words, 1 chapter)
Tumblr Tag: #Slap a Bow on It
Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024
 "Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."
TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit
sketch of Danny's courting gift
Star Shoes (2772 words, 1 chapter)
Tumblr Tag: #Star Shoes
Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024
"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."
In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.
The Dead Stay Dead (My addition is only 679 words but idk about the ones before it)
no tag
An addition to writing by @/some-kind-of-creature and @/nerdpoe.
In which the LOA has a rule that those who die are never mentioned again and are erased from their records. Damian doesn't think to mention his late sister. Once he does he creates a portrait to commemorate her, but it turns out his sister is actually his brother now.
The Double-edged Blade of Chance (5309 words, 1 chapter)
Tumblr Tag: #The Double-edged Blade of Chance
Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024
Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. It was just a fact of life. There was always a chance, but chance was a double-edged blade. 
Jason quite literally runs into his soulmate at the young age of eight.
“Sorry! I thought you were a ghost!”
"Why would I be a ghost?”
TW: Major Character Death, Child Neglect, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Depression
Unnamed fic (ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic)
Tumblr Tag: #ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic
Addition to a post by @/starwrighter
Fic is currently a work in progress with only a minimal amount released to the public under the Tumblr post. Once it's completely written chapters will be posted and linked independently.
126 notes · View notes
iloveschiaparelli · 4 months
Text
About Me Post
I haven't done one of these so it's probably time
Name: Just my @ will suffice
Schiaparelli is in reference to the crater, not the fashion website(?)
Age: 21
Autism - Self Dx (pursuing diagnosis)
I'm an aspiring writer/director who currently lives with two wonderful roommates, one of whom has a cat named Rookie, whom you will see often in my garden posts. I like to garden, play D&D/Pathfinder (my first pathfinder campaign is starting next week!), organize, do crafts like painting or embroidering, photography, and I draw digitally using Clip Studio Paint and a Huion tablet.
Sometimes I write, my writing blog is @ilike2eatdirt (which is not true btw). I also enjoy playing video games, reading books/webtoons/manga, and watching shows/movies. My main work in filmmaking is limited to wardrobe/production design. I have 5 short film credits, 1 music video credit, and 3 more shoots coming up in the fall. All of my film stuff so far has been unpaid student-level work.
My Blog is About: Whatever I want!!!! This is a blog by me, for me, and the People are invited if they choose to attend. To date the most consistent topics I've posted about are my Potted Plant Empire & various autism revelations. I reblog a lot... usually in short bursts though! I will sometimes post artwork.
Favorite Topics (Includes special interests): Astronomy, film, art, storytelling, geology (SHINY ROCKS), ancient persia, autism, Wes Ball(his work), sharks, and more
Fandoms you might see me posting about: Maximum Ride, Planet of the Apes (2011- ), The Maze Runner (movies), The Ascendance Series, Lost (I am only up to s3 no spoilers please!), Heroic Legend of Arslan, Fullmetal Alchemist, Yona of the Dawn/Akatsuki no Yona, various webtoons/anime on a highly infrequent basis, etc.
Video Games I like to play/have played/started playing:
Minecraft, Nier: Automata. I also enjoy(ed) playing Rain World (in-progress), Hollow Knight (finished 1 ending and was done), Yes, Your Grace (also 1 ending and done), Andromeda Six (this is a really really good indie Visual Novel that is currently in development and has been regularly releasing chapters since 2020), Skate 3 (when I feel like pulling out the xbox 360), Skyrim (started), Stardew Valley (I GIVE UP. I AM IN SUMMER AND STILL HAVE NO MONEY.)
Tags to Note on my Blog:
#gardenblr is typically what I start every potted plant empire post with.
#actually autistic is usually what I start autism-related posts with (moments i should have realized im autistic, relatable autism things, 2am revelations, autism-specific rants, etc.)
#vent/#rant/#personal post will likely be swapped between depending on whichever fits best for what I'm posting, but generally anything I'm concerned about being personal that strangers on the internet don't want to see, will have one of those 3 tags.
#artwork is ummm artwork
Fandom posts will get fandom tags so if you get too much of a particular fandom that you don't like/dont care about, feel free to filter that out or just shoot me a message and I'll add a tag just for you <3
1 note · View note
twilight-blaze · 2 years
Text
when I went to reblog that last post I started talking in the tags a bit, but then it ended up as a lot more of a rant than expected and I'm not gonna just leave that on someone else's post
so I'm gonna put the rant here instead, because I need this out of my system.
I didn't really edit this, I just finished it, so this is not a well thought out and articulated post. it's just me pouring my thoughts and emotions into a post and maybe some of them make some amount of sense
I used to try to teach my parents about queer history and current queer issues. I used to want to teach them, to meet them more than halfway if I had to. but their response is always that I'm overreacting, or being too cynical, or being self-centered, and I can only take so much of that.
I brought up the AIDS crisis to my mother once (and only once, because of how it went over) and she said I was being over-dramatic for saying the queer population was left to die by a government that did not care about our lives, and said it was a cynical view of the epidemic to even consider that it was malicious in any way.
(that's about when I had to leave the room because of how upset I was. I never brought this up again. I don't think I could handle it a second time.)
when I told her about the gay panic defense and trans panic defense she said I was overreacting because, and I quote "it can't be that bad" (yes, really, those exact words) and "that could never hold up in court." she refused to believe me when I said it has, even when I offered to point to some specific court cases.
(this woman is a lawyer. she works at a law firm as a paralegal (she prefers that over being a practicing attorney) and therefore handles court documents frequently. you'd think a court case would be a compelling enough source in her eyes, but that would require being willing to read it, which she is not.)
if I bring up queer specific issues around my father, even when they're directly relevant to the current conversation, he'll tell me not to make it all about me. he also doesn't want to talk about anything political, and any queer history is politics above anything else to him.
if I bring those same issues up to my mother, she's told me to "stop bringing down the mood" (we were literally already having a conversation about hate crimes when she said that one. so talking about other hate crimes is fine but mentioning transphobic hate crimes is where she draw that line?)
she also told me "you shouldn't worry about the negatives" when I mentioned the higher rate of violence against trans people (also in a conversation where it was relevant, not out of the blue). and I get it, nobody wants to think about getting assaulted or murdered, but the unfortunate reality is that for me, experiencing some form of violence is more likely than not, so not thinking about it at all isn't really an option.
(telling her this did not make her change her mind on how I'm being "too negative." and then she brought out the "self-fulfilling prophecy" line and I realized that if she thinks I'm at a higher risk of hate crimes because I'm acknowledging they could happen to me and thinking about how to protect myself, then I should probably stop trying to reason with her about these things.)
and the thing is, my mother is constantly saying that she wishes she could do more to help stop human rights abuses and discrimination. my father is politically active in election season and donates to progressive primary candidates. both of them consistently vote for progressive candidates in every election down to the local level. they donate money to organizations they think will help. these are well-meaning people (at least on a societal level).
but they can't be assed to learn, so the only issues worth caring about are the ones they already know about.
they can't admit that queer rights weren't solved in 2015 once and for all because they never learned anything that suggested otherwise, so they aren't capable of recognizing that there are any issues to learn about.
they're "supportive," but only as far as that can go without putting in more than just a token effort.
and unfortunately at this point I don't think they'll ever be better than this. I don't think they'll ever do more than this. I don't think they'll ever even try to understand, because they're clearly not willing to put in any effort.
so I've stopped trying and putting in effort, too. I've accepted that the most support I'll ever get out of them is basically just lip service, that I'll never have parents who truly support me and my queerness, that I won't ever have parents who understand or even try to understand that part of my history and the history of my community. and I realized that even if there is something I could do to change their minds and get them to care, I don't think I can handle trying to get through to them anymore.
so I gave up.
3 notes · View notes
xo-phile · 4 years
Text
Tides (M!Mer x Fem!Reader) p2
╔═════ ∘◦ ☟ ◦∘ ══════╗
Excerpt: “Why are you telling me this now, Willow?” you asked, chewing on your straw.
“I can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business.”
You glared at your friend and she snickered under breath, elegantly swirling her drink with a perfectly manicured hand.
“I just want you to be happy. And I don’t want to see you missing out on a good thing.”
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: thalassaphobia, situational anxiety, some spice
Author’s Note: To the readers who left such sweet messages, liked, followed, reblogged, and to the person who sent me my first ko-fi ever... YOU LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE ಥωಥ. Life has been crazy with job interviews and school starting soon, so I appreciate your patience! If you would like to be tagged so you get notified for the next update please let me know!
Part 1 ✦ Part 3 🍋
╚═════ ∘◦ ☝︎ ◦∘ ══════╝
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Ancient skeletons of long dead trees haunted the sands of Driftwood Beach. Petrified branches bent in all directions, reaching toward the sky, celebrating that even in death, their bodies served as an organic playground and haven for the living. Children and adults alike climbed along the writhing branches of trees fallen centuries before. Even in death, the haunted were kept loving company by the living.
You stood at the edge of the water, relishing in the way your toes pressed further into the sand as the cool water rushed past your ankles. The sun was low, coloring the skies a soft sorbet pink and orange. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Teddy victimized the seagulls making their way inland for the night.Your eyes drifted toward the open water of Lake Obsidian, its deep blue darkening as they day neared its end. From your point of view on the beach, the water was calm. Inside, you felt a tumult in your stomach, churning at what Dresden could possibly have planned when he asked to meet you.
Suddenly, Teddy was yapping at the water and in the distance you saw a familiar, finned form waving in the distance.
"You gonna stand there all day? We're gonna lose sunlight!"
You shuffled your feet in the sand.
"I was thinking we could start small! Here seems like really good progress already!"
Even from yards away you could see the exasperation on Dresden's face. You turned to see Teddy run head-long into the crashing waves, doggy-paddling toward Dresden, big brown head bobbing happily in the water.
"You're really gonna let your beast show you up like that?" the merman chided.
Show off, you thought ruefully. You stripped yourself of your jean shorts and jacket, down to bikini bottoms and rash guard. Despite the buzz of anxiety in your stomach, you picked up your paddle board and made your way out into waves. With every step you took the water rose higher and higher, until you stopped in your tracks. Waist deep in the water, your body refused to take a step further, muscles locking up in place.
"You're doing great! Keep coming towards me!" You looked up to see Dresden’s lopsided grin cheering you on.
"Dresden, I can't do this," you blurted clutching desperately at your floating paddle board, "I want to go back."
The water around you ebbed and flowed, swaying you with a force you weren’t familiar with and there was a gentle push at your back that you resisted. If it weren't for the death-grip on your board, your hands would have no doubt been shaking. Even when you were a kid, there was not enough candy or promises of gifts in the world that would have cajoled you into swimming in deep water. This was the farthest you had ever been and the newfound sensations were overwhelming.
"Wait wait wait! Just wait for me! I'll come to you, don't move!" He dove below the surface of the water, his flukes flashing before disappearing completely. Moments later, his head resurfaced in front of you.
"How're you feeling?" Dresden asked, eyeing the no-doubt panicky expression on your face.
"Like I'm about to crawl out of my skin."
He let out a little chuff at which you glared at.
"You're making jokes. That's good," he laughed. You held his gaze, trying to ignore the vast expanse of water around you. But also out of sheer resentment.
"I feel like if I say anything else, we won't be friends anymore," you ground out through gritted teeth. A stray current, made another push at your back and you clenched even tighter to your board for what little semblance of stability it could find.
"Okay, well I swear on our friendship that I won't make you go out any farther today. Climb on your board."
Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you still clambered on, lying on your stomach like a surfer would. With your body out of the water, the overwhelming apprehension subsided. The board still rocked as it floated in the gentle water and your body tensed nervously. Dresden was beside you now, a large hand on the nose of the paddle board keeping you from floating away.
“Good, now take a deep breath and close your eyes," he said. You looked at him, aghast.
"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," he promised.
"Dres, I don't know about this," you faltered. He considered your expression for a moment and instead of acquiescing, his bigger hand took yours and wrapped around it tight.
"The worst that will happen, is that you feel a little stupid.”
You looked at him once more with doubt but promptly shut your eyes, laying your forehead down on your arms. The board's unstable rocking made your stomach turn and the occasional wash of water sent shivers up your spine.
"Okay, now tell me everything you're feeling right now," came Dresden's calm voice. You gripped his hand tighter, the only source of stability you could feel.
"Scared. I'm really scared. I don’t like that everything’s moving.”
"Okay, that's okay. Tell me why."
“I-I feel like, I’m gonna get washed away. Or that I’m gonna get pulled under.” At your words, Dresden’s hand tightened in yours and you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. Self-consciousness washed over you at your admission. Dresden was right, you did feel stupid. You felt stupid for your irrational fear, for coming out onto the water. You should have stayed on land where things didn’t move beneath your body and the world wouldn’t threaten to swallow you up.
How lame.
“You know it’s okay to be scared right? There’s nothing wrong with how you’re feeling right now.” Dresden’s voice was much closer now, his breath ghosting your ear and calming your unwelcome thoughts. Now all you could hear was the crash of the waves on the shores behind you and your heart thumping in your throat.
“Okay, now take a deep breath in. Three-two-one.” You inhaled through your nose, the rush of cold air of the dusk filling your lungs.
“Deep breath out. Four-three-two-one.” You pushed out a controlled breath, your diaphragm straining. Your heart was not not so loud but there was still a pit in your stomach.
"Now I want you to name three things you can smell."
You hesitated at his words for a moment but focused on finding any scents you can trace. With your head buried arm, you smelled the faint coconut scent of your sunscreen. In the air, a soft sharpness of pine wafted through the breeze. Finally a scent of clean, crisp water filled your senses.
"Sunscreen, Pine Trees, and Water."
"Okay, now what can you hear."
Blood was rushing through your head and your heart was still loud, but you pushed past the sounds of your anxiety to listen to the sounds of Driftwood Beach. Beneath you, water lapped against your board, causing a soft hollow knock against plexiglass to echo under you. Above, you birds called out to each other as they soared overhead, crying into the open sky.
"Water under my board and birds."
Despite the darkness behind your lids, the world around you came into clear perception through your senses. You lifted your head and opened your eyes to find Dresden watching you intensely, mossy green of his eyes darkening faintly.
The moment between you twisted like a knot tightening with every quiet second that passed.
“You’re not gonna ask me what I see?” you murmured softly. Dresden’s hazel eyes went and wide blinked, snapping out of his reverie. He let go of your hand, and for a moment, you mourned its warmth.
“No-no, I think that works,” he stuttered, a faint blush warming his sharp features. “How are you feeling?”
The sky above you both was now fiery orange set behind the darkening green of sequoias. The water around you moved with calm purpose, still but teeming with a quiet life. A faint sense of calm overtook you and you allowed your body to feel the gentle rocking of the water with the board between you.
“Better. A lot better.“
A comfortable silence settled and you sat up on your board, admiring the white moon in the sorbet sky. The idea of leaving your board still terrified you but your gorgeous surroundings were a welcome distraction and made a mental note to come back with your camera and a sketchpad.
From the shore, you heard aggravated squawks and a sudden burst of flapping wings. You and Dresden turned to see a sopping wet Teddy, galloping across the sand chasing a flock of irate seagulls.
"I better get back. If I don't feed Teddy soon, one of those seagulls might turn into dinner."
"Right, we wouldn't want that…” the merman averted his eyes, nervous to look you in the eye. “This was probably a lot for today, so I was thinking we could meet up again in a couple days? Whatever works-"
"No let's meet again tomorrow," you blurted, "This really helped a lot." Your face reddened. Your mouth had spoken before your mind had a chance to process what you were volunteering to do. Still, Dresden’s face lit up in a big grin.
"Okay, great. I'll see you tomorrow."
The two of you said your goodbyes and you made your way back to the shore. You could feel Dresden's eyes on you as you paddled towards land. It wasn't until you were standing on the solid shore did you see him wave from a distance and then disappear under the water.
You replayed the last half hour in your head. You had always known Dresden to joke and laugh at the expense of other people and you weren’t used to the care that he took with you and the warmth of his large hand in yours.
As you walked to your car, with Teddy in tow, you wondered how you never noticed that the soft curves of his boyish face turned into angles and edges.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Despite every ounce of fear screaming at you, you spent each sunset with Dresden, wading out into the water, pushing yourself farther and farther from the shore. And like the tides, your fear ebbed and flowed. On bad days, you would be paralyzed, muscles stiffened as you lay on your paddle board. Dresden would always hold your hand, his grip firm and solid with a silent pledge to keep you safe. His voice, coaching you through the worst of your panic, would be uncharacteristically gentle.
On the better days, you two would work through the breathing exercises and then spend time reminiscing on childhood memories or talk about your respective work. You would sit on your board, mindfully allowing yourself to drift on the water, and talk about your growing frustration with your paintings and the inescapable deadline of the gallery opening. Dresden would then tell you about how his work mapping the underwater caves of Lake Obsidian was going with the local university, complaining about one particularly grumpy selkie lead researcher and the various ineptitudes of the doctoral students.
"Wait, wait so even the mer don't know how deep the lake is?"
"Nope, at some point it gets too dark to even see. Makes it dangerous. You lose your sense of direction." The thought of endless darkness and thousands of pounds of pressure on your head gave you a full-body shiver. Dresden laughed.
"Still it's not a bad gig. Helps with relations with the land folk and sometimes, you find cool stuff you can keep for yourself."
You thought about the fossilized ammonite that sat on the mantelpiece in your living room. The opalised fossil shimmered in the light when the sun beamed through your curtains, and you would stop to admire it when the stress of emails and showing dates overwhelmed you.
You tried not to think too much about how Dresden saved something that special just to give it to you.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
It was an early Sunday morning, a misty fog was just dispersing as the yellow morning sun warmed the chill in the air. You were wandering through the stalls of Talon Point's farmers market, admiring the vast variety of produce. Some you recognized: bright red and orange tomatoes, plump as a baby's cheek, broccoli and sprouts green and freshly picked, but there were also other varieties you didn't recognize, bright purple and magenta spices that sat in a pile as tall as you were and some sort of blue fruit perfectly cubed and shiny.
Even with your giant grocery tote filled to the brim with your usual fare, you still liked to wander through aisles, admiring the strange sights and shiny crafts of the local artisans. With a sudden pull, Teddy tugged you by his leash towards the specialty bakery that made treats for humans and non-humans alike. Warm smells of fresh croissants and chocolate eclairs wafted through the air and he made a dead stop just outside the door plopping his giant behind in an obedient sit, knowing better than to barge into a doorway without your express permission. You had to chuckle lightly at his polite adamance.
"Alright, but only one today. You're starting to look a little fluffy and I don't mean the fur," he seemed to harumph in protest but stood his ground. Inside the bakery, you saw a vast array of baked goods: doughnuts, croissants, tiny cakes, and even dainty cake pops. Behind the glass counter was an orc with an immense frame, balancing two gigantic trays of honey buns in both big arms.
"I'll be with you in a moment, miss," he gruffed, sidling his way through what looked like tiny walkways.
"That's okay, take your time. Just browsing." The orc let out a soft grunt in response and made his way to the back kitchen. As you made your way down the aisles, you started to realize the variety of baked goods was immense: green pandan waffles, taro puff pastries, and Mexican conchas in a variety of colors lined the trays in the glass case. Finally, you came upon some pastries in the shape of fish with ogling eyes.
"Any questions, miss?" You looked up to see that the orc had returned and was waiting patiently behind the register for you to make a decision.
"What are in these fish pastries?" you asked, shyly. He made his way over to you to check the display.
"Ah, those are taiyaki. Normally made with red bean paste inside, but this batch has Nutella." You smiled to yourself, wondering if Dresden had ever tried chocolate before.
Can merfolk even eat chocolate? you wondered, absently, already coming up with ways to make fun of him for having the hazelnut paste stuck on his teeth.
"Can I get two of those and one dog treat, please?"
You watched the gigantic orc as he packaged your pastries, large chords of muscle sliding under smooth green skin, delicately placing your order in a crisp paper bag.
Behind you, you heard a familiar voice call your name and you turned to see Willow dressed in a baby blue sundress and gigantic sunhat.
"Fancy seeing you out and about, stranger," she smiled and pulled you into a hug. Before you two could even make conversation the orc behind the counter cleared his throat and you turned sheepishly to pay for your order. Willow smiled up at the orc coquettishly, and requested an order of a dozen cheese croissants, and then proceeded to brazenly leer at his admittedly toned behind when he bent over to pick out a cardboard box.
"Thanks, Gil," she winked as you two exited the shop. The aforementioned orc rolled his eyes at Willow and gave another huff before making his way to help out another customer. Your ears warmed and you hid your face as you exited the store.
"Excuse me, I seem to recall that you have a whole-ass husband," you chided, teasing her as you made your way through the main street, passing shop displays filled with antiques and other handcrafted arts.
"I'll have you know Romero and I have a mutually agreeable 'look don't touch policy'. Like window shopping!"
You rolled your eyes but smiled at her antics. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” You chuckled softly when her lips formed a pout at your chiding.
“Maybe you ought to consider shopping around, yourself.”
“I really don’t think I need more clothes.”
“Okay, now you’re being obtuse on purpose,” Willow huffed exasperatedly and you couldn’t stop the smug smile from tugging at your lips.
“Will, I already have the exhibition breathing down my neck. I don’t really have time to entertain any gentlemen suitors,” you sighed, stretching the tell-tale tingle of anxiety out of your neck.
“Who said anything about dating though? A fun little romp does the body and mind wonders. It’s a wonder how you stay sane when you never leave the house.”
“I leave the house! I walk Teddy all the time and me and Dresden-”
You clapped your hand over your mouth before the last of your words could tumble out. But it was too late. Willow didn’t miss your words and she honed in on you like a hawk.
“You and Dresden? You two have been hanging out? How?” Willow probed, a wickedly gleeful expression on her face.
“Oh my god, Willow it’s nothing like that. He’s been…” you sighed, trying to find your words, “We’ve been doing exposure therapy out on the water. He’s been helping me after the accident.”
Willow studied your face thoughtfully and smiled like she knew something you didn’t. You grabbed her by the elbow to look her in the face.
“Willow, what?”
“Nothing! I just didn’t think he had it in him to make a move.”
You sputtered, ears warming again with embarrassment.
“He’s not trying to make a move!” you cried indignantly. Willow smiled at you like a child who still believed in Santa.
“He looks at you like you put the freaking sun in the sky. Like, he’s literally had a crush on you since we were children.”
She smiled wickedly at your stunned silence. Despite her deceptively air-headed appearance, you knew Willow to be highly perceptive. And blunt. Willow pulled you by your wrist to the nearest cafe and sat you down in a chair of a patio table. A young tiefling waiter rushed out with menus and a water bowl for Teddy and Willow ordered two iced coffees while she waited for your brain to reboot.
“I feel like I would have noticed,” you quavered, still processing this revelation.
“You’ve been hung up on Micah for years. We didn’t think it would matter.”
The young tiefling came out with your orders, setting the sweltering cups on the table before, making his way back into the cafe. You and Willow took several silent sips.
“Why are you telling me this now, Willow?” you asked, chewing on your straw.
“I can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business.”
You glared at your friend and she snickered under breath, elegantly swirling her drink with a perfectly manicured hand.
“I just want you to be happy. And I don’t want to see you missing out on a good thing.”
You looked her in her icy blue eyes, earnestness shining through.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
All through the ferry ride back, all you could think about were Willow’s words. How could you have possibly missed something so huge? Your relationship had always seemed so simple and easy…
Or so you thought. Your mind wandered to all the sunsets you two spent together out on the water and the soft looks of concern he gave you on your worst days, when you couldn’t handle the anxiety.
You thought about the day of the accident, when he pulled you out of the water and held you shivering and wet, murmuring reassurances that you were safe. And then you thought about how angry he got at Micah, his oldest friend.
“Why else would he have gone ballistic like that?”
Willow’s words echoed in the back of your mind as you unlocked your door and made your way into the kitchen to put away your groceries. As you put away the produce you’d found the white paper pastry bag holding the Nutella taiyaki you had bought for Dresden and you eyed the crumpled paper bag cautiously.
Dresden would probably laugh when he saw the funny looking pastry. Maybe his dimples would show and the coppery fins that framed his face would twitch as he tried it.
Your thoughts halted to a stop. Why were you daydreaming about your friend? Instead of letting your thoughts whir along, you decided to do what you did when you couldn’t feel at home in your own head: you painted.
You padded to the art studio and rifled through your things for an empty canvas and acrylic paints. Instead of your usual set-up with an easel and a stool, you set the 18x24 on the ground and squirted paint onto a plastic palette. You started with a soft sand color, not unlike the sands of Driftwood Beach at sunset, and let your arm guide itself across the blank canvas. Lately, you rarely ever let yourself waste paint and a canvas without a plan, but right now you didn’t feel like thinking anything through.
You added purple shadows, painting in subtle planes of an angular face, detailing in soft cheekbones and an elegant jawline. Blues showed soft shadows cast by dark curly brown hair and a proud nose, while reds added depth and dimension to a clever face. For a playful arch of dark brows, you added grayish black to brown and touched up the curve of a playful smirk with pink an white.
When you started work on the eyes, your mind wandered to strong hands gripping tightly at your hips and back, keeping you from getting swept away. You remembered how warm hazels watched you, dark with concern and then intense with yearning.
A pleasant shiver ran down your spine at the memory. His inner irises were a rusty brown that glittered when he laughed and outer irises flashed a brilliant coppery green when serious.
You painted his facial fins to match with eyes, a uniquely striking coloring.
By the time you finished the piece hours had passed and the sun was lowering in the sky and you cursed to yourself before changing quickly and rushing out the door.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
You made your way out into the lake, this time paddling out on your knees, carefully balancing the bag of pastries on the tail of your board. It had been a few weeks and you weren’t scared to navigate your way farther and farther from shore anymore. Still, fear overtook you whenever you tried to swim out so you settled for adventuring through the water safely on your board. As you waited for Dresden, you straddled your board, letting your feet kick gently in the water, an accomplishment won once Dresden convinced you that plesiosaurs didn’t survive past the Cretaceous Period and wouldn’t try to take a bite out of your calf.
You watched as idly as the soft clouds rolled through the pink sky, noticing how the breeze shook the tips of gigantic redwoods. The final days of summer were flying by and soon Autumn would be upon Lake Obsidian. As you mused quietly about another year passed in this bustling little town, you saw a flash of a shimmering tale and a hand ghost up your ankle and calf. A surprised yip escaped your mouth as you flinched. Dresden popped up on the other side of your board shaking water out of drenched curls.
“Jesus Christ, Dresden, give me a heart attack why don’t you?”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You didn’t faint. I’d take that as a win.”
The merman smiled up at you with a big lopsided grin and you couldn’t help but notice the soft divot of dimples in his cheek. You looked away before you could get flustered, remembering your earlier conversation with Willow.
“I was in town earlier today and I saw something you might like.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the merman lit up and your ears warmed at his adorable expression. You reached behind you to grab the white pastry bag and reached in to hand your friend the little fish pastry, “It has chocolate in it though. I wasn’t sure if mer can even eat hazelnut spread.”
He hung onto your board while he observed the fish-shaped confection, turning it every which way before taking an eager bite.
“It’s wonderful,” he moaned, mouth full. You giggled as you ate yours, enjoying the crisp outside and gooey inside. You two munched in comfortable silence and you folded up the white paper bag and tucked it into the shoulder strap of your bikini under your rash guard to throw away when you got home.
“You humans are creative, I’ll give you that. Bring me more of those. I’ll consider it compensation for my services,” licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips.
“Excuse me?! This was your idea!” you cried, indignantly.
“And yet, you reap the benefits and get to enjoy the pleasure of my company,” he smiled up at you cheekily. Like you predicted, chocolate had dripped down onto his chin and you let out a soft snort.
“Pleasurable company with questionable table manners. Dres, you have something here,” you pointed on your own face where his face was dirtied and Dreden swiped on the wrong side of his own. You let out a little giggle at his confused expression.
“No, other side,” you tried again, laughing even harder when he wiped his arm across his jaw and made an even bigger mess. Dresden pouted but smiled nonetheless at your laughter.
“Why don’t you come down from there and help me,” he teased, splashing some water up at you making you shriek indignantly.
“Catch me then!” Before you realized what you were doing, you swung a leg over your board and pushed yourself off, awkwardly hopping into Dresden’s surprised arms with a big splash. Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders as you got used to the chill of the water, and you enjoyed the way his arms instinctually wrapped around your waist and under your ass to keep you from sinking in the still waters. Your legs wrapped around his waist, steadying you in the gentle current.
“Good catch,” you joked teasingly, although you felt your heart rabbit in your chest a mile a minute. Still, you couldn’t help but grin at the dazed expression on Dresden’s handsome face, eyes wide in confusion and mouth agape. You reached up to his face with a wet hand and wiped at the chocolate staining his chin until it was clean.
“Thanks,” he murmured softly. You looked up to see his hazel gaze locked on yours, waiting in anticipation for your next move. Your fingers moved on their own, tracing the sinewy muscles under the smooth, tanned skin of his shoulders and you found them making their way up to a strong neck where they traced the delicate slits of flattened gills. At your soft touch, the merman let out a low moan that sent molten heat straight between your legs. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against a hard torso in an iron brace. You gasped softly, a whimper threatening to escape your throat.
Dresden dropped his head onto your shoulder and let out a deep shuddering breath. With strong, wide hands gripping your hips, he gently hoisted you back on your paddle board and pushed you to arms distance.
Embarrassment and self-consciousness crashed down around you, shocking you out of your haze.
Was Willow wrong? Did you make a mistake? He doesn’t actually want you like that.
“Oh god, Dresden, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…” you tried, but the merman was already shaking his head, a warm flush flooding his face.
“We should take a break for a couple days,” he ground out firmly. Your heart dropped to your stomach at his words.
“O-okay… Dresden, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s okay. I’ll see you around,” he blurted, before diving under the water and swiftly swimming away.
You didn’t remember paddling back to shore or making your way back to your car. All you felt was the sting of rejection and the burn of tears as they filled your eyes.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Like, comment, and reblog!
If you feel so inclined, buy me a ko-fi (ko-fi.com/tienne). Love in any form is deeply appreciated!
Thank you for your support!(˶′◡‵˶)
158 notes · View notes
x-starshines-x · 4 years
Text
JatP Fanworks Appreciation Week
Work in Progress Wednesday
i told @mamirugbee that i'd do what i can this week!!
here's a little wip of a bobby fic that i'm working on :)
Weep, little lion man, you’ll never be what is in your heart. Weep, little lion man, you’re not as brave as you were at the start.
When he was younger, Bobby got into a lot of fights. They were almost always someone else's fault, how could he be blamed for sticking up for himself or some other kid? Most teachers didn’t care how or why a fight started, just how it ended, and if it ended with Bobby’s fist knocking out some “poor, defenseless” kid’s front teeth out, then he was the one that would be punished for it. That’s how he ended up transferring from seven different schools in less than five years.
It’s also how he ended up staying with his grandparents when he was thirteen. Only after moving from his parents, three separate aunts, a cousin, and his mother’s estranged brother. No one wanted him for long. He wasn’t ungrateful, (regardless of what the various counsellors, teachers, therapists, and cops had to say about him) he just couldn’t turn a blind eye to bullies. It wasn’t right that someone could just wake up one day and decide to make someone else’s life miserable. His grandparents, at least, understood that, and more importantly they didn’t blame him. In fact, they’d made it very clear that they were supportive, and even proud of him for doing what’s right. That in itself still confused him, but he wasn’t gonna question a good thing too much. Living with them was the best thing that could have possibly happened to him, for several reasons.
He’d been kicked out of two schools for fighting the year he moved in with them, and while they understood his righteous energy, they also begged him to please make this new school last as they were running out of options. He promised them, and himself, no more fights in school. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t even make it three steps onto school property before he was sure that that promise was going right out the window. He sent a silent apology to his poor, long suffering grandparents for what he was about to do and charged around the staircase. The sounds of a scuffle, and casually thrown slurs were getting louder as he rounded the corner. Surveying the situation, he started weighing his odds. There were three older boys, probably ninth graders or so, surrounding a boy that looked closer to Bobby’s age, maybe even younger.
The first thing he noticed was how small the younger boy looked, and honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that he was shielding his face with a history textbook that Bobby knew was part of the standard eighth grade class (he’d been in two before and the textbook had stayed constant), he would have thought the kid was a sixth grader. The older boys were fairly scrawny too, the middle one was only slightly taller than Bobby, and brunette. The one on his left was a little shorter but stronger looking than the first boy, while the one on the right was blonde and painfully average looking. Bobby was confident he could subdue them if he had to. He decided that he would attempt to get them to back off with words, and only start swinging if one of them tried to hit him first.
“Hey assholes!” he shouts, trying to shift the attention from the boy on the ground to himself.
The three boys whip their heads around, looking for a teacher probably, but their faces relax into casual smirks when they realize it’s another student. The one in the middle, presumably the ringleader, steps forward looking Bobby up and down.
“Yeah, what the fuck do you want?”
Bobby bristles at his bored tone and steps closer himself.
“I wanna know what the hell is going on here.” he spits angrily, gesturing at the scene in front of him.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, kid,” he says, as if Bobby being younger than him is some grave misstep, then continues. “Besides, what would you even do about it if it was?” he challenges.
Bobby almost breaks his promise -and the kid’s nose- right there, but manages to keep himself under control. He sets his jaw and stares daggers into the other boy’s eyes.
“I think that you three should leave,” he grits out, measured and deathly calm.
Sensing the threat, the boy on the left moves to flank the leader.
“He told you to get lost, kid. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I don’t think I’m anyone, but I know that you three are about to be scraping each other off of the sidewalk if you don’t start hauling ass soon,” he responds with a dangerous grin.
He makes eye contact with the blonde one, the only one who hadn’t moved yet, and sees his expression shift like he’d just solved a big mystery.
“You’re the Wilson kid, aren’t you?” blondie asks, stepping back cautiously.
“Huh?” the grin on Bobby’s face falters for a second, in confusion. Why would this guy know him?
“I heard what you did to that kid at Paramount, and the one from Hawthorne,” he states. Looking to his friends, he warns, “I’m not getting fucked up by an eight grader for some little fairy, it’s not worth it.”
Bobby didn’t like remembering what happened at his other schools once he left them, but it was for a good cause this time. He could probably get them to back off without fighting. The way that the kid on the floor was shaking and flinched every time someone moved made him nervous to see what would happen if a real fight broke out. He knew what those reactions alluded to, and if he could get out of the situation without traumatizing the guy anymore he’d sure as hell try.
“I’d suggest,” the easy grin settles back on his features as he pushes into their space, “That if you don’t want to end up being ‘those kids from Los Feliz who got their shit rocked by the Wilson kid’, you Get. The fuck. Out of here.” he says the last part very slowly and quietly. He knows they can hear him by the way they shiver when he steps back.
He tries not to laugh too much at the way they fall over each other to run past him.
As soon as they turn the corner, Bobby’s focus snaps back to the boy on the floor. He looks even smaller like this, scrapes on his face and breathing ragged, even though the sources of the conflict are gone. Bobby selfishly wishes he would have gotten the chance to knock their teeth in for all they put this kid through. He approaches slowly, and tries to exude a calming aura while he holds his hand out to the boy.
“Need a hand?” he grins.
The boy looks almost shocked that someone is offering him help, and it takes all the self-control that Bobby has to not go tearing off in the direction of the bullies and make them regret even looking at this kid. He knows that this boy's reactions aren’t the sole fault of a few middle school bullies, no, it takes years of that kind of treatment for someone to react this way, and that only fuels the fire in Bobby’s soul.
The boy takes his hand and lets Bobby pull him to his feet, breathing out a small thanks. Now that he’s standing, Bobby notices that the kid has at least four inches on him, he’s still scrawny as hell though.
“It’s no problem, man. No one deserves that.” Bobby shrugs, the boy looks at him with a curious expression, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s joking or not.
“Anyway, I’m Bobby,” he says, hoping to gain the boy’s trust.
“Most people call me Peter. I haven’t seen you around here before,” the kid, Peter, says quickly, looking so flustered that the freckles on his face almost disappear with how red he is. Bobby figured that he hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly, or out loud for that matter.
“Yeah, I just transferred from Hawthorne. Today’s my first day,” he explains easily.
Peter seems more at ease with Bobby, and smiles at him widely.
“That’s sick, do you have your schedule? Maybe we have some classes!”
“Yeah, just gimme one sec.” he says, fishing out the crumpled paper from his mess of a backpack. He never claimed to be organized.
Tag List: (i don't really have one yet but here,,) @jaskiers-sweetkiss @bright-molina you guys were in the chat while i was piecing this together
19 notes · View notes
mneiai · 4 years
Text
Re-Imagining Jedi Apprentice: Melida/Daan
For those of you familiar with this, I’ve been attempting to re-imagine Jedi Apprentice in a way that allows me to still use the significant parts of the backstory, but doesn’t make the Jedi look absolutely awful. Melida/Daan is a major part of it, in that it makes the Jedi look horrific while also being a really popular part of Obi-Wan’s backstory (because him having a past as a child soldier puts a very angsty spin on the Clone Wars and the child slave soldier thing).
This can be found on AO3, as well, along with prior parts of this ‘series’, along with in the tags on my blog. I will not be taking any criticism about how I, an abuse survivor, should ignore abuse in JA because it’s a “common YA trope” and apparently if bad things are common in fiction that means...we should ignore them or something wtf is wrong with people.
Melida/Daan:
An Outer Rim world that has suffered through around two centuries of civil war between the major ethnic groups of the Melida and Daan. Each generation perpetuates the idea of vengeance and payback, encouraging their children to continue the fight after their deaths, and the only real art or culture they have is monuments to dead warmongering relatives/ancestors.
The Melida/Daan Mission:
In JA, Jedi Master Tahl is sent to help wtih negotiations between the two sides, but is kidnapped and tortured by one of them. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are sent to rescue her. They bumble around and are saved/helped by Cerasi, a member of a group called the Young.
We learn that the Young are children of both sides of the war who don't agree with the fighting and want it to end. They're living in catacombs connected to the sewers and barely surviving. Cerasi, at 13, is one of the older children. She helps them get to Tahl, providing all the info they need as well as a necessary distraction and then they take Tahl back to the Young hideout.
Obi-Wan, having a lot of empathy and obviously horrified about the situation these kids are in, wants to help them. Qui-Gon insists that they must follow <i>only</i> the mission directive and do no more. Eventually, Qui-Gon takes Tahl to their ship (and I should mention, they were age mates and he's kinda obsessed with Tahl, it's creepy) and Obi-Wan, as the Elders (older adults) are bombing the Young, insists he's staying. Qui-Gon goes back to the Temple, leaving a 13 year old Obi-Wan, without even a lightsaber, in the middle of a civil war.
Obi-Wan and the Young would go on to win the war (with the help of the Middle Generation) and setup a new government run by the leader of the Young, Nield, with a Council that included Obi-Wan and Cerasi. Except that Nield wants to destroy the signs of the old culture of Melida/Daan while others want to focus on rebuilding. Tensions run high. Cerasi is assassinated by Mawat, another member of the Young, to try to reignite war and kill off the Elders that remain.
Chaos erupts and Obi-Wan has to beg the Temple to send help. Qui-Gon comes back to Melida/Daan, has the Elders make peace, and reluctantly takes Obi-Wan back to the Temple, though not as his Padawan.
The Melida/Daan arc is Not A Good Look. And it continues to be Not A Good Look the entire rest of the JA series, wherein Obi-Wan gets blamed and shamed when he eventually returns to the Temple, even by his friends, for "abandoning" his Master, and gets reprimanded by the Council itself. Qui-Gon faces no consequences for leaving a 13 year old, his Padawan, on probably one of the worst planets to leave someone on in the known galaxy.
Much like the first novel, which people can trace directly to them disliking Yoda and the Order, the fallout from Melida/Daan is something people often cite as a reason they dislike the Council and especially Qui-Gon.
How To Keep Melida/Daan But Not Make The Order Look Like Negligent Monsters (Again):
Jedi Master Tahl is sent to help negotiate peace between the Melida and the Daan, who for the first time in centuries have agreed to an outside negotiator present, which is taken as a good sign from everyone. While there, a "terrorist" attack leaves her injured. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are sent to assess whether she needs to be evacuated and for Qui-Gon to take over negotiations if she can stay. At this point Obi-Wan is 15 and has been Qui-Gon's apprentice for a few years.
Both the Melida and Daan are blaming each other for the attack, but upon investigating, the Jedi find that the actual attackers are very contrite members of the Young--Tahl wasn't even supposed to be where she was when the bomb went off, the building was supposed to be empty, and was meant to show the Jedi that things on Melida/Daan were not as "peaceful" as they appeared.
The Young are mostly orphans, ranging from around 18 down to little kids, living in catacombs under the city and traveling through sewers, still. They're barely getting enough to eat (especially for growing children), but if they get caught by the adults they'll be sent to factories and work camps to continue the war effort (ones that, as part of the peace deal, were supposed to be shut down already). Qui-Gon agrees that this needs to be investigated more closely and allows Obi-Wan to continue speaking to the Young, who trust him more since he's a fellow child. He gets more and more attached to them and their cause as he does so.
Tahl has a setback and must be taken to Coruscant for treatment. Obi-Wan refuses to go, scared that without a Jedi presence, the Melida and Daan might restart hostilities or go after the Young. Qui-Gon reluctantly agrees to leave Obi-Wan behind, after sending out a message to nearby Knights and finding one in the vicinity who could make it there in less than a day to take charge of the mission, temporarily, and act as a guardian to Obi-Wan. The Melida and Daan have made lots of overtures that they want peace and will continue to hold their truce.
Except basically the moment Qui-Gon is out of the system, the war starts back up. The Knight never makes it to the surface, shot down in the atmosphere, and Obi-Wan is left living with and fighting beside the Young to survive.
Back on Coruscant, we get a sign of Senate interference as they stall any missions back to Melida/Daan. Qui-Gon is frantic (as anyone who cares about Obi-Wan would be), enough that he goes to his mostly estranged Master for assistance. Dooku is near leaving the Order, partially from Sith interference/influence and partially because of the Senate corruption and the way the Order just bows to their whims.
Meanwhile, on Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan realizes that help isn't coming after a few days with no signs of more Jedi and throws himself into working with the Young to try to stop the war. They know the terrain, the Melida and Daan tactics and weaponry, and Obi-Wan has studied various conflicts and battles already in his education as an Initiate and Padawan. The Young starts making real progress against the Melida and Daan, who were unprepared for how well-organized the Young are (and some of the Force tricks that Obi-Wan has learned have been helping, too).
The Council eventually goes behind the Senate's back, sending Qui-Gon on a mission to nearby D'Qar to collect samples for a Temple researcher, with a very long allotment of time to do so. Qui-Gon, of course, heads to Melida/Daan, managing to land because the Young had destroyed most of the planetary defenses after finding the wreckage from the Knight's ship. He finds the Young far more organized and regretfully more militant, and a wary Obi-Wan. With Qui-Gon back, the Young allied with the Middle Generation, and the Elders' infrastructure mostly destroyed or co-opted, they finally sue for peace talks again.
Mawat and some of the other Young still don't want peace, they want to punish the Elders for all the horror and pain they've suffered, and Cerasi is caught in the crossfire when they attack the talks. She dies in Obi-Wan's arms, becoming a martyr for the peace on Melida/Daan.
A council is setup initially to rule, with representatives across the age groups and an equal amount of Melida and Daan. The Senate finally sends another representative, a beauracrat who will oversee the formation of the new government, and Obi-Wan leaves with some small peace of mind, despite his grief.
After the trauma and chaos of the Melida/Daan mission, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are given a break to recuperate. Their first mission after is a "cake walk" mission to witness the peaceful transition of governments to a young Duchess on Mandalore. It is, of course, not.
50 notes · View notes
sagemoderocklee · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
2020 has been a weird fucking year, to put it mildly. There have been a lot of ups and downs, and with New Year’s Eve and the start of 2021 upon us, focusing on the ~positive~ seemed like a better way to end the year, and hopefully start 2021 feeling inspired and proud for overcoming this horrendous year.
For many people, it was difficult--even impossible--to get anything done this year (myself included), and that’s okay! But if you were able to make progress on writing projects, even if it was just one or even if it was just part of one, you should celebrate that! I wish I’d thought of this sooner and organized it better, but regardless I wanted to celebrate my own accomplishments with regards to my writing, and encourage others to do the same! I was going to tag people, but I’m not sure with it being 2 hours til midnight for me if that would feel like putting too much pressure on others, so if you want to do this too please do!
This wrap up is honestly just a self-indulgent look back on the works I’ve made and what I learned/gained from each, maybe what I don’t like about them, some totaling on what I did, and some resolutions for the next year. It’s silly, but I think it’s kinda fun and if you missed any of the things I have posted this year, you’ll find them here!
2020 Fic Wrap Up:
Kado: Parts II+III (COMPLETED)
Kado was started in September of 2019 for the @puregaalee​ summer event. This was a last minute thing that I started the day the prompt was due and managed to write the first part in about 6 hours while sitting in a cafe--remember that? Sitting in cafes? Man, I miss that. I hadn’t anticipated working on Kado, but I decided that I was going to finish it this year, and I’m honestly amazed that I did. This fic is sweet and fun, and surprisingly popular, though it isn’t my favorite of my works. However, it is a light, fluffy little romcom modern AU, and I learned a lot with it because despite my struggles with modern AUs and their horrible lack of political intrigue, this fic forced me to work within set parameters. I was only writing a 3 part story, and each part could only be 9 scenes long. For those unfamiliar, kado is another term for Ikebana, and in Ikebana there are specific elements to follow. Certain styles will only use three branches, some will use nine. So my goal was for the structural elements of the fic to mimic Ikebana. In doing this, I was able to do something I don’t usually do, which is keep this story more concise.
I’m still not sure how I personally feel about the ending, but I think endings are always a struggle, especially with something like this.
Gate of Dreaming (COMPLETED) 
This is a fic that I started last year, then left to sit untouched with only 2k words. Getting back into it was a bit difficult because I was writing something very different from my usual: stream of consciousness. This fic was very experimental for me not only because of the stream of consciousness, but also because of the changing tenses. This was another exercise--unexpected though it was--in brevity. With this particular story, it couldn’t be dragged on and on, because--despite the 100 year time span--the events take place within the Infinite Tsukuyomi. This was also the first time I’d worked from Lee’s PoV in quite some time, so that was fun because I do enjoy writing him, but usually write from Gaara’s PoV. This is definitely one of my favorites from this year, and since it had been sitting on the back burner for so long, I’m so excited that I could finally get it done.
Another one where the ending really wasn’t easy to achieve, but I did end up liking it more than I expected, and I think the best thing is that it’s open-ended which leaves room for others to guess at what the future holds.
It Eats Your Heart (WIP)
This was an unexpected fic for me in every way imaginable. Starting another fic? Making another modern AU? Tackling the horror genre? None of those were things I’d planned to do this year, but lo and behold, that’s just what I did. I really enjoy a good bit of horror, but it is NOT an easy genre to work within, and this fic has definitely been a push for me. But with it being such a push, the payoff is far more. Stepping out of my comfort zone is something I like doing, but I think this is the biggest step outside of that and I am so incredibly proud of how that first chapter turned out because of it. I was really able to surprise myself with this fic, and I am hoping to update the next chapter early on in the year.
Absolution (WIP)
This fic is probably the second oldest idea/longest unpublished fic I currently have up. Formerly a much longer title, the idea for this fic came to me in May of 2017 when a friend, @brianadoesotherjunk / @brianadoesart, posted a piece of GaaLee fanart that sparked inspiration. The fic took off, morphed into something much bigger than the one scene depicted by the art, and now 3 years later, the first part is up. Initially, this was meant to be a long shot, but after sitting with this for so long, I realized that I needed to split it up into 9 parts, which allowed me to use this for GaaLee bingo and finally publish it. Much of the first part was already written before this year, but I’d been quite stuck on it until now. This is actually probably one of my favorite GaaLee concepts to date. I remember back in the day, there weren’t a lot of different takes on getting Lee to Suna so he and Gaara could fall in love, so (at the risk of sounding cocky) I think that Lee as a nanny is rather inspired. I think with this fic, I pushed myself the hardest to get past the hurdle of writer’s block and accepted that publishing is probably the best way to motivate myself to keep going. The feedback for this fic has been really motivating, so I think I’m probably right about that.
I do think there are some parts in the middle or towards the end that could maybe use some tightening up, but I’m just happy to finally have this fic out in the world.
The Art of Love: Chapter 11 (WIP)
TAoL is such a ridiculous labor of love. The chapters for this fic are novellas in and of themselves, so each time I update it takes a lot of work to get them out. This fic is one of those like magnum opus type fics. I have put so much into it, and I’m honestly amazed that it’s only been up for 3 years because I’m approaching the halfway mark on it, and I don’t think I expected to be there by now. Despite being able to churn out 30k chapters, I have a hard time focusing on one thing and I often struggle with mental health related writer’s block, so big works are always sort of sporadic in their updates. 
This particular update of TAoL was definitely one of my favorites though. Initially, I didn’t plan to go the sort of dark fantasy rout that I did with Shikamaru, but I actually really love what I’ve done with him, though I worry others won’t be as into it or that the execution isn’t quite there. One thing I would like to work on with future chapters of TAoL, however, is maybe pairing things down a bit--though I’m not sure that’ll always be possible. The next chapter is a Naruto PoV chapter, though, so I expect that one to be a MUCH shorter chapter than the last three and should be able to get it out sometime next year.
Before I could publish this chapter, however, I did go through and make some big changes, which is something I often struggle with because of such long breaks in between working on certain projects. I will say, though, that TAoL continues to push me to greater heights as a writer, and I look forward to actually finishing this fic someday.
Thirteen Strokes: 1 + 2 (WIP)
Another unexpected fic this year, however, this one was actually an idea for about a year, unlike IEYH. This fic has really given me a lot of perspective on my own writing and world building, and has inspired me to sit down and really start committing the things I’ve developed to paper to create a cohesive view of Suna, Wind, and the shinobi world. This fic is meant to be a Romance. Like just full on Romance. I write a lot of tragedy and focus on a lot of darker themes in my writing, so while I don’t think of this as stepping outside of my comfort zone, it is very different from my usual, and a really nice change of pace. I think, in all honesty, it is one of my best works, and I do hope I can continue to deliver on the remaining 11 parts of this story.
if this were the last i felt you breathing (COMPLETED)
Ugh. This fic has been my enemy for 2 long years. I signed up for a Secret Santa exchange, and of course, I regretted doing it when I found that I was not motivated and, after the month of October where I was churning out fic after fic for GaaLee Bingo, that I was massively burned out. I wasn’t able to think past writer’s block, and so I ended up settling on dusting off an old, unfinished piece for my giftee, and I hope they can forgive me for not coming up with something brand new for them.
This fic was a struggle. Working so closely with the canon--following the Rescue Kazekage Arc as closely as I did for this fic--made this a much bigger challenge and this fic sat and sat and sat for two years, untouched and incomplete. I’m still not sure how I feel about it. I know it’s not my best work, but I am glad that this fic isn’t hanging over my head and that I was able to deliver something to my secret santa giftee.
My goal with this fic was to rewrite this particular arc from Lee’s PoV to give more depth to the arc and shift the emotional core of it away from Naruto. Naruto as a character has a lot of flaws that never get addressed, and one of the things that is consistently frustrating for me is the way the emotional core of the series rests on him in unrealistic and often superficial ways. Naruto hasn’t spoken to Gaara in three years, but I’m supposed to believe he’s this affected by Gaara’s kidnapping? Temari and Kankuro are right there! Lee is right there! I wanted to see that, so that’s what I set out to do, and ultimately I don’t think I fully succeeded, but I tried. I guess not everything can be a resounding success
---
This year I managed to do a lot more than I realized. New works, updates, and COMPLETED pieces?! I never would have thought, but staying home gave me more free time, and when I was too broke to work on costumes, writing fanfiction was something free I could do.
Total new works: 5 Total updates: 9 Total completed works: 3 Total words this year: 143,587
---
I have a lot of goals for the coming year, and I know I won’t make all of them, but that won’t stop me from trying.
2021 Writing Resolutions:
Reach 1million words (+238,073 words)
Finish IEYH
Finish Pearl-Filled Lungs
Update TAoL (Chapter 12 and 13)
Update Absolution
Update 13S
Update Find Me (Chapter 6)
Start the Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix
Start editing Alliance
Return to working on Honor Bound
Return to working on We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips
26 notes · View notes
Text
Crash Test, Part 2
Read Part 1
Tagging @today-in-fic
Scully sat next to Mulder on the plane ride home to DC, even though she preferred not to. She thought about asking the flight attendant if she could switch seats but didn’t want to make things worse between her and her partner. It hadn’t been that long since their encounter in the closet, the one that had ended abruptly once Mulder figured out that it was a ploy to determine if he was infected with the worm. Scully still felt a little guilty after remembering the look on his face once he discovered what she was up to. She realized she would have to work with Mulder for however long she was assigned as his partner (probably not much longer if Blevins’s offhand comments were any indication) and resigned herself to the awkwardness for the time being.
Scully was getting herself settled, buckling her seatbelt and adjusting the tray table, when she felt a feather light touch on the side of her neck. She jumped a little and looked over. Mulder had traced his index finger in the same spot where his teeth had been just last night. There was now a red mark that Scully had tried (and failed) to cover with foundation.
“You’ll have to cover that up,” he stated indifferently, like he wasn’t the one responsible for its existence.
Scully just gaped at him, taken aback by his boldness.
 “Yeah I know. Thanks for that, by the way,” she replied after a beat, pulling her shirt collar up more.
Mulder closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “Like I said, turnabout’s fair play.”
Scully stared at him for another moment, watching his Adam’s apple bob with his slow breathing, before turning away. She was content with ignoring him for the rest of the trip.
------------------------------
When she finally got home after the long flight from Alaska, Scully let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized how tense she was since the case started and she was glad to be back safe and sound. It was Friday night and she had the whole weekend to herself for once.
Scully spent the time catching up on chores, as she was way behind on laundry and dry cleaning. Her fridge was empty so she had to go grocery shopping. She purposefully didn’t think about work, but sometimes her mind drifted back to the last few days in Alaska until she distracted herself. That was easier said than done, as Scully had dinner at her parents’ house on Sunday and had to endure many questions about work and her new partner from her father.
Scully returned home from Sunday dinner around 9 pm and decided to get a headstart on her report before bed. When she was organizing her case file and notes, she noticed the red blinking light on her answering machine: it was a message from Blevins. He wanted to see her Monday afternoon to talk about her reports and her progress with the X-Files. Shit, she thought. She did not feel like dealing with this right now. Prior to the last case, Scully was secretly starting to enjoy working with Mulder but also didn’t want to put her career at the FBI in jeopardy by refusing to do what her boss wanted.
Scully was contemplating her next move when there was a knock at her door. She checked the time - almost 10 pm - and cautiously went to look through the peephole.
Once Scully saw who it was, she opened the door a fraction, not too keen on having the last person she wanted to see right now on her doorstep. She should be the last person he wanted to see, as well.
“Mulder, what are you doing here?” Scully asked. 
“Can I come in?” he asked. She didn’t know how to deny him entry so she opened the door wide enough so he could slip in. He closed the door behind him and took off his jacket. 
“Mulder, it’s late. This couldn’t wait until the morning?” Scully inquired, glancing at the clock. She was going to see him in less than twelve hours. What could be so urgent?
“No,” he replied and took a step towards her. “Can we talk? I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”
Instead of answering, she gestured toward the couch, and he went to sit down. 
“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea, beer?” she asked, trying to be polite.
“Beer works,” he said, settling in on her striped couch. She grabbed two bottles from the fridge and brought them over. She didn’t usually drink during the week but she figured she may need something harder than tea to get through this conversation.
“So…” she started, after taking a sip from her bottle. They were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, but it still wasn’t enough space. Scully could smell his aftershave and it brought back memories from Alaska.
Mulder began, “I wanted to talk to you about your report.”
“My report?” she asked, confused. He never asked about her reports before.
He took another pull from his bottle. “I know you’re still sending them to Blevins. What do you put in them?”
She shifted nervously in her seat. “I write whatever happened during the case, Mulder.”
“Do you include everything?”
Scully felt like she was being cross-examined. “I include what’s relevant,” she mentioned vaguely. She wasn’t sure what his intention was with these questions and didn’t want to give him too much information.
“Well how do you decide what’s relevant? I mean, are you going to include what happened in Alaska?”
She raised her eyebrows at that. “What are you referring to?” she questioned.
Mulder gave her a look that said, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Of course she knew what he was alluding to but why was he asking her this now? Did he really expect her to describe that particular encounter to her boss? Maybe he really was crazy, like everyone said.
She decided to be evasive to see how he would react. “Do you want me to?” she asked.
Mulder angled his body towards her, moving a little closer: “Would you write that I’m here tonight?” 
Scully stood up from the couch, feeling uncomfortable. Of course, Mulder followed her. He was always so close. Sometimes she didn’t mind it, but now it was making her nervous. She turned to face him and he was right behind her, their chests almost touching. She tilted her head back to see him better. She could feel his breath on her lips. 
“What do you want from me?” Scully  asked, almost whispering.
Mulder brought his hand up to her face and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. Scully couldn’t move; she certainly wasn’t expecting this. He traced a finger down the side of her neck, just like he did on the plane, but this time it made her shiver.
“I want to know what you’re thinking, Scully, and where you stand,” he answered. It seemed truthful but Scully wasn’t sure. She was curious to find out what he was going to do next.
“Well, then no,” she responded.
“No?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No, this won’t go into my report.”
Mulder smiled and closed the half inch gap between them to kiss her. It was chaste compared to the kiss they shared back in Alaska. Scully couldn’t believe that this was happening again! Maybe they were infected with something else? Or exposed to some aphrodisiac? It was the only explanation she could come up with.
Mulder kissed her very gently, so very different from Scully’s approach. One of his hands went to cup the back of her head, smoothing her hair down. He stopped kissing her for a moment and then moved to nuzzle her neck.
“What about that? Will that go in?” he asked, after pausing for a second.
“No,” she let out in a breath. 
“Will you do something for me?” he asked, his lips still against her neck.
“What?” she asked somewhat dreamily. His other hand had found its way to the vee of her shirt and was stroking her skin along her clavicle but not going any lower.
“Let me review your report before you send it.”
It took Scully a minute to process his request. She pulled back from him an inch to try to look at his face, moving her hands to his chest.
“Review? What does that mean? Do you mean edit?”
Mulder placed both of his hands on her shoulders, looking directly at her. She never realized just how green his eyes were. 
He started talking: “Just think of it as a mutually beneficial endeavor. You tell them what they want to hear and you get to stay on the X-Files. I know you like this assignment, right? It has to be better than teaching at the academy, anyway. And I get to keep working without their interference or knowledge.”
“Mulder,” she started but he interrupted her by pressing his lips against hers again.
She pushed back more firmly this time, as realization began to dawn on her. “Are you trying to seduce me? So I’ll do what you want?”
Mulder took a steop back and smirked, a hard glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Well, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he stated snarkily.
Scully felt her blood pressure start to rise, mostly at Mulder but also at herself. How could she let herself get into this position? How could she even attempt to trust him?
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Agent Mulder, that was a life or death situation! I had to know if you were infected and it was the best I could come up with on the spot! I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen!” 
She realized she was yelling so she lowered her voice a little to ask, “Why didn’t you just ask me about the reports?”
Mulder crossed his arms in response: “Why didn’t you just ask to check my neck? Instead of throwing yourself at me?”
Scully sighed and rubbed between her eyes. “Because I thought you didn’t trust me. I was obviously right about that.” She gestured between the two of them, referring to the second time in a few days that they found themselves in this situation.
Mulder went to pick up his jacket from the coat rack. “You’re right, Scully. I don’t know if I can trust you. But the offer still stands.”
He opened the door and said, “See you at work tomorrow,” without turning around.
Once the door closed, Scully walked over to lock the deadbolt. She was suddenly exhausted and leaned back against the doorframe. From her vantage point, she could see her computer and the report she had just started. Scully also remembered the meeting scheduled with Blevins for tomorrow. She had a lot to think about. 
38 notes · View notes
goose-books · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
(original image credit to @/theyshane on unsplash)
a month or so ago the wonderful and very sharp-fanged @yvesdot said i should make a post about the process of Working On A Podcast - what, exactly, does that entail? and so today i set down upon your table a long post about the process of this podcast, its unique struggles, and What Comes Next!
for those of you who are new here: a modern tragedy is my podcast-in-progress, a loose retelling of three of shakespeare’s plays (romeo&juliet, hamlet, and macbeth) set in a modern-day high school. or, alternatively, “so so much drama localized inside a few overlapping friend groups of gay* people”
post under the cut!
tag list (ask me to be added/removed): @piyawrites @harehearts @bisexualorlando @guulabjamuns
*well. gay people and indrajit “macbitch” chopra. never let it be said i don’t have cishet rep 😤
what i mean when i say “podcast”
sometimes when i say, “i’m writing a podcast,” people get the wrong idea - they think i’m going to sit down, maybe with some friends as guest stars, and talk into a microphone for an hour. what i really mean is that i’m writing a fiction podcast - something like an audio drama, if you will.
i’ve had this story concept for a long time (since i realized i was gay, actually. sometime around my coming out i was like “...sapphic romeo and juliet. oh i’m a genius”), but it never really worked as a novel. my inspiration for making it a podcast was the penumbra podcast! which i am not caught up on but which dragged me shirt-collar-first into the world of podcasts. [blowing a kiss to mars] for juno steel.
i will admit that i actually... haven’t listened to a ton of podcasts. mostly because my incredibly helpful attention-deficit brain said listening to things is impossible forever. but let me tell you that starting to write AMT in script format worked immediately. and in hindsight? it makes sense. i mean, i am retelling some of the most famous plays of all time... why not get a little theatrical with it?
the process so far
the podcast is drafted! all 16 episodes of it. all... 176k words of it... only took me a year and a half...
i have my main cast together! AMT has a lot of side characters, not all of whom are cast yet, but my main recurring squad is gathered and i love them all VERY dearly. (also, the population of people i know irl is 75% theater kid. so i think i will be able to figure out the side character thing.)
within the group of voice actors, i also have three assistant directors, a term i use loosely because mostly i just mean… those are my right hand men. the main folks i bounce ideas off of and the main folks i have helping me organize all of this. i’ve said multiple times that i’m just the keyboard monkey and would be hopelessly out of my depth without my beloved assdirectors. (shoutout to @asimpleram, the only one who uses tumblr, you are my best friend and i love you oh so much)
i also have two “bootydirectors” who gave themselves that name and that’s just the people who know the most about recording technology and acting. thanks kings
right now the scripts have been sent out to some sensitivity readers and i am currently editing! (both with regards to sensitivity reader feedback, and also just editing the plot and character arcs in general.) (if you want me to send you AMT and you’re willing to give me your thoughts i will straight-up send it to you honestly just know it’s LONG)
i actually did not consider that writing this might be uniquely hard before i started
fun max tip: if you look too far ahead down the road and realize the breadth of the project you’re taking on you’ll freak yourself out so just dive into things headfirst without checking both ways or considering your actions!!! [i am giving you a double thumbs up from behind my monitor]
i have never written anything like AMT before! it has been an experience! there have been some unique struggles!
working with other people is harder than i expected! which is not about my group, all of whom are lovely people. it is about me and my little OCD rat brain that hates letting go of control. even though... an inherent part of writing a script... is that at some point other people will be involved... wild, i know.
9 main characters! AMT has 9 main characters. this is somewhat excusable because the whole thing is episodic and more like a season of a tv show than a novel. but still. 9 main characters. why did i do that
i’ve never written episodically before, so i’ve had to figure out how to fit the plot into appropriately spaced intervals. there are three running plotlines (one for each play), and they’re all parallel and eventually convergent. so everything’s happening at once and it’s… hard to make episodes that aren’t just “max threw a bunch of scenes together because they were happening at the same time.” (i will admit i’ve defaulted to chronological order when spacing episodes, so the timeline doesn’t get confusing. but i hope each episode is cohesive on its own.)
balancing the tragedy and comedy in tragicomedy has been… interesting. i do to some degree feel like AMT’s gone darker than i initially imagined it; while it’s a high school retelling of these plays (and thus there’s no. there’s no murder. the only person who dies is isaac’s dad and that’s six years precanon), all three plays deal to differing degrees with suicide, among other things, and it felt… disingenuous not to write about that from a modern high schooler’s perspective.
i can guarantee a long-term happy ending for AMT! i cannot guarantee much about what’s in the middle. (there are sixteen episodes; one of my directors likened episode 7 to a five-act play’s third act, when things really start to… hit the fan. he’s right and i’m obsessed with thinking about it that way)
the massive amount of time i have been working on the thing: i started writing this podcast in january 2019. i finished writing it this past summer (2020). that’s two summers that have passed without my recording it (which is obviously easier to organize in the summer… or it was before covid but you get my point). this is… a little disheartening? i don’t know; oftentimes i underestimate how long writing projects will take me. what it comes down to is my urge to put out content vs. my urge to make it perfect…
…especially since i’m technically competing with one william f. shakespeare. (the f is for fucking.) i mean, dear old billy shakes DID write the plot out for me ahead of time, which i appreciate, but still…
AMT is absolutely consumable if you don’t know the first goddamn thing about shakespeare’s works. that said. i assume some of the people who will listen to it are shakespeare enthusiasts, casual or otherwise, and that’s a little terrifying! AMT is a shakespeare retelling, but i’ve made these characters very much my own, and i suppose i worry about how others will approach that, and whether they will disagree with my interpretations, or the way i’ve adapted the plots, and so on and so forth... i just have to live with this one, honestly. i think i could edit AMT for a thousand years and probably still find something to change about it, so i will simply have to get over myself.
that said, i don’t regret the amount of time i’ve spent on it! i think the time i’ve taken to draft and edit these episodes has been well worth the wait; i’m genuinely very happy with what i’ve created, and whether or not you agree with, say, my interpretation of a modern hamlet family dynamic, i hope it’ll still be enjoyable!
so what’s next?
as i said earlier, the scripts are currently in the hands of sensitivity readers, and i’m editing!
over the summer, the cast met on zoom frequently to read through and rehearse scenes. and i will not lie it was the most fucking fun i’ve had this entire wretched interminable year. i am constantly charmed and befuddled by the feeling of Listening To My Words Read Out Loud By A Human Voice and also i love my friends so very much
we have a tentative plan to gather the cast (socially distanced and responsibly, of course) over thanksgiving break to make some actual stabs at recording! i am too afraid to concretely promise AMT Episode 1: Fortune’s Fool by the end of 2020 but like… i’m not NOT promising it! send me your finest vibes. we’re close.
21 notes · View notes
dragonheart-swtor · 4 years
Text
Author Interview
I was tagged by @sleepswithvillains​, thanks!!
Name: Dragonheart, Dragon for short. (Also responds to Rani.) I don’t remember why I picked up the name at first, to be honest; I’ve been using it since my roleplay forum days back in middle school when I started representing and associating myself primarily with dragons online. (It did end up being hilariously ironic years later, ha.)
Fandoms: For writing, I really only post stuff for SWTOR these days. I’ve published on ff.net (*shiver*) for Frozen, Disney’s Descendants, and... I think that’s it, actually. Privately, I’ve written, uh. a lot. *shoving piles of paper into comically overstuffed drawer* Steven Universe, Star Wars/SWTOR, Frozen, Descendants, PJO, Detroit: Become Human, Homestuck, and a smattering of others. Outside of writing, add The Adventure Zone, Fantasy High, and just a whole bunch of others.
Where do you post?: AO3, these days, as well as here.
Most popular one-shot: The problem is that most of them have gone in a compilation, which I’m realizing in hindsight was a mistake probably and I might stop doing that in the future, but going by comments technically Midnight Conversations (Chapter 2) has the most.
Most popular multi-chapter: bold of you to assume I have more than one, and the one is currently stalled (though not abandoned!), to be perfectly transparent. It’s an OCs fic of mine, unconnected to though technically compliant with my SWTOR ‘verse, basically an original story set in a pre-existing universe. It’s titled Love and Lose (and Love Again) and I love it very much even though most of it and its sequel is still languishing in my private files because I’m stuck on the part that needs to go up next chronologically speaking (and will ramble about it for quite literally as long as you’ll tolerate listening to me, should anyone be interested in asking).
Favorite story written: Barring L&L, because I’ve been hyperfixated on those characters for over a year and a half but it feels mean to answer something that has only like 20% of it posted, it’s probably tied between Trust and Welcome Home, the second one almost entirely because of one (1) paragraph, because I get great joy out of writing people in deep, deep love.
Fic nervous to post: The one (1) smutfic currently publicly posted, Missed You, because my brain is dumb and I’m awkward and have to keep reminding myself I’m An Adult This Is Legal Now despite it having been a couple years since I became an adult
How I choose titles: Good question, honestly. It varies. Usually I try to pick some short phrase that’s thematic to the piece, which is easier with one-shots than multi-chaps. It needs to give me some idea of what the story’s about. As far as my temporary file names on my flash-drive - I basically just list the character(s) being focused on first for organization’s sake, and then a few words that give me enough of a reminder which one is which. “Duserra torture.odt,” “Eris Reykal Spooky.odt,” and “Eris Reykal Ship AU.odt” are all files in my star wars folder at present.
Do I outline: *distant laughter* does building extremely detailed ideas for scenes at semi-random points in the timeline without ever writing it down count? (More seriously, no, I’ve never been good at outlining. You’re lucky if you get a full round of editing out of me and I don’t just throw my first draft down on paper and call it finished.)
Complete: Do one-shots count? The collection of those has been linked a few times up above.
Coming soon?: Muses only know. (In theory: a scene between Eris and Reykal that’s been in my drafts for too long already; a two-part one-shot between Zashiil, Duserra, and Garen that’s been in my head for too long but is just now getting down on paper; and some more of the Togruta gods and religion headcanons I’ve been working on. But who ever knows when I’ll actually finish anything? Not me, that’s for sure.)
In progress: The things I just said, plus about a half-dozen other Star Wars things I float between at any given time with no actual impetus to finish things. (A lot of my writing is just... writing for the sake of writing, not even really with any intent to publish, if you hadn’t gotten that vibe from me already xD)
Prompts: Literally anything, please always feel free to tag me in things I hunger to ramble about my characters and headcanons
Upcoming work: At some point I’d like to put together a masterpost of headcanons on various things, and I’d like to start posting more of my worldbuilding headcanons in general, I just. Feel weird talking about those completely unprompted, I guess? Also, maybe at some point I’ll actually do something multi-chapter with my KOTFE crew, but again. who knows when that’ll happen. I have a lot of scene ideas it’s just a matter of getting them down.
I’ll tag @sunsetofdoom, @swtorpadawan, and @swtorcompanionsgoofin if y’all have the time and energy and want to, and ofc anyone else who wants to!
5 notes · View notes
aprilmayblossoms · 4 years
Text
Day 32 // 100 Days of Code
02/13/2021
I missed another day yesterday. But, I think that’s all right. I’ve been doing a good job of staying on this. Even when I wasn’t actively coding yesterday, I was doing some reading and trying to get new ideas for how to organize the game. It’s not enough for me to count it as a day. But I’ve realized that as long as I’m not missing two days in a row (or, like within a week of each other) I’m doing all right.
I’m getting a lot more comfortable working with html and css. Just doing it really was the key, who knew. My math game is coming along pretty nicely I think. I’m working on refactoring right now so there probably won’t be a lot in the way of changes til the code is a bit cleaner. But, working on organizing it has made me really look at how HTML and CSS work together and some of the things I could do to make it a bit neater. 
Day 32 Summary:
Project you are working on: Math Game Progress today: No changes as far asc functionality goes. I'm working on refactoring. I've combined the Start page and the Congratulations page with the new game prompt into one, but I'm not sure if that's actually going to be more efficient, to change the text that's displayed, as opposed to just having completely seperate elements. I could maybe put the form tag around the whole thing, so I don't have the need for the second button.. I'm still toying with it, we'll see. Anyway, I did this in a new branch so that I can mess around with it without screwing up the real game. Also so I can get used to how github works. It's very intimidating for me still. Challenges you faced: I didn't realize how much my poor naming skills would come back to bite me in the ass. I'm so grateful for the "find" option in atom because when I decided to start renaming things to be more organized, I didn't think about how much scavenger hunt it would become to update that particular name everywhere in the file. Also, I suck at naming. Which seems like a minor problem but I keep being unsure. Do I call the input player-name because that's the information it'll be getting? No, should it be player-name-prompt because the space is only the prompt and whats entered is the player name? Maybe I'm overcomplicating things. Tasks for tomorrow: Decide on a way to set up the start/new game pages, and then start styling the buttons.
3 notes · View notes
outroshooky · 5 years
Text
song rec tag game!
thank you @ayixha for the tag! you’re an angel and i adore you!
rules: you can only repeat one artist and only one time, so we can all kind of spread new music to the people we tag. try to listen to at least one of the songs people rec here.
i’ll tag @hobiswitch, @guksheart, @yoonsgiggle, and @minghaoss!
one song you loved the first time you listened to it and never got tired of
don’t you worry child by shm. it is such a nostalgic track that was produced at the end of their legendary career-- literally, the last track they ever released as a trio. there’s so much emotion contained in it, but at the same time it is so uplifting that i can’t help but crave something older than myself. it is car rides to nowhere and staring at my bedroom ceiling and feeling my heart burst listening to that last drop.
one song you cry every time you listen or makes you emotional?
oh goodness, happy now by kygo. on a surface level, it sounds like a broken relationship coming to an end; however, it was written in memory of avicii after the late dj passed away. watching kygo talk about tim in interviews makes it clear how devastated he is, but how at the end of the day, he is prepared to move on while always taking a piece of avicii’s legacy with him. as a huge fan of both avicii and kygo, my heart breaks every time i hear this track.
one song that always makes you happy?
for sure, chilli by seventeen. at ode to you in newark, hip hop unit performed it and since seungcheol is on leave currently/was at the time, hansol took cheol’s verses along with his own. he rapped his way across the stage with so much confidence and passion, with a smile written clear across his face. my heart grew about fifty times with that performance, and i’ll never forget him looking directly at me in the pit right at the end of it. that, by the way, is the moment i realized i’m a hansol ult.
one song you would dedicate to your best friend and/or family member
i’m going to tweak this one a little bit: rather than dedicating a song to a best friend, i’d like to dedicate karma by ajr to my current therapist. i used to listen to this song after each session, having switched to a trauma therapist at my mentally lowest point. it’s a bit tongue-in-cheek, but it’s a reminder of the place that i started at and just how far i have come with her help. the song samples a line of another ajr song called 100 bad days, a reminder that this is not forever and you will persevere on beyond this feeling and this moment. i’m really proud of the progress i have made with the help of my therapist; i could not have done it without her.
one song with a production (the sounds, the beats, the mood) you love?
*cracks knuckles* i, an edm librarian, have aSCENDED WITH THIS QUESTION--
okay pun unintended but i would have to say good things fall apart or that’s why by illenium! anything on his ascend album is fantastically done; there is no other producer who can create the kind of drops that illenium does. they blend these organic sounds with a melodic bassline and meaningful lyrics; it’s so impressive to listen to. two truly legendary tracks in terms of production.
one song with perfect, amazing, outstanding lyrics?
going to the complete opposite end of the spectrum: i’d have to pick this girl by lij. it is his most popular song (of many equally wonderful other tracks), but for good reason. i’ve never heard wordplay quite like his rhymes, nor a song that so accurately sums up the love letters that i write in my heart because i’m too scared to pen them on paper.
you're my actuality, all my sincere apologies / you're my imperfections, but a figure of mythology / i wanna give you all of me, come fulfill this prophecy / attention's hard to catch, but you capture it so flawlessly
this world is kinda shitty, but you're pretty kind and witty / i'll write love songs to the moon and back; let's get out of this city / we got one hell of a something; yeah i'm smitten with your loving / i had nothing till you came along, but now i feel like i belong
one song you would recommend to anyone?
way back home by shaun. shaun is another underrated artist who deserves so much love! no matter who you are, i feel like this song appeals to an element of the human soul, some bit of summer nights and nostalgia and feeling like you could eat the world raw. it’s work shifts in midsummer and riding with the top of the car down and running in warm sand with the love of your life. i love this track so much.
one song that you don’t understand why you like it so much but you do anyway?
oof, this one goes to ball for me by post malone. i used to not be a big fan of it, but it grew on me over time. the other day, i walked through new york city to it and it had a Vibe to it that i’ll think of every time i listen to it in the future. i also despise nicki minaj, but her verse in this song slaps.
one song you think that people, in general, wouldn’t like but you do?
ooh i’d have to pick cinderella man by eminem! to be fair, i do associate this song with an old friend of mine; i probably wouldn’t like it if i didn’t have that association. it’s a bit on the heavy side; there are some sketchy lyrics that my mom might not approve of, but that’s eminem for you. this song is feeling very small but on top of the world all at once, black curls and familiar strangers in the middle of nowhere.
one song people normally like and you don’t like or hate?
the middle by zedd. i despise zedd’s newer music. his older music, more specifically, his true colors album, should be celebrated in a museum. his new music is disgustingly mainstream.
one song you would call a masterpiece
lights down low by max. no matter what remix (latin urban) or featured artist (gnash), it remains one of the most stunning songs i have ever heard. the fact that the artist wrote it to propose to his wife with is fucking adorable. the fact that the music video is their wedding video is even cuter. it is so raw and open and honest, no matter what artist remixes it or writes their own verse. it is literally an eternal masterpiece and i refuse to be convinced otherwise.
one song you listen to (last 30 days max) discovered and really liked it?
surprisingly, fire on fire by sam smith! there’s something about the raw invocation of love on this track that touches a piece of my heart. it is yin and yang, passion and quiet adoration, a soft string line and a dramatic background. i’m starting to really like sam smith’s music; it has a special place in my heart.
one song you listen to to get pumped like you want to tear down the fucking government or something?
okay, this one (unsurprisingly) goes to n.o by bts. i used to listen to this song and scream the lyrics at my bedroom wall when i was especially frustrated. if you’ve never had the experience, i recommend it.
5 notes · View notes
nitewrighter · 5 years
Note
I'd love to see Gency but back when Genji was learning how to walk with his protheses. I love what you're doing, keep up the good work !
Thank you very much!!!
——
It was four in the morning as Genji stared up at the ceiling of his room in the infirmary. He wasn’t healing fast enough–at least, not in his opinion. Doctor Ziegler kept saying things like ‘Oh your progress is coming along much more quickly than anticipated!’ But she never seemed to want to adjust that progress for what he could do. He could move his prosthetic arm just fine now. Sure, eating soup with it without spilling was difficult, and moving chess pieces without knocking some over was a headache, but he could move it.
He just needed to be able to move it more. He just needed to fight again, maybe bring the memory of his training back to the ghost limb trapped within that metal apparatus. But no. Doctor Ziegler was a stickler for safety, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was doing her best to keep Commander Reyes from his quarters as well. Why? He had spoken to Reyes only a few times, but he did get the feeling Reyes wanted Genji out in the field just as badly as he wanted to be out in the field. A bitter part of him wondered if it amused Doctor Ziegler to see him frustrated like this, but he knew she was just as exhausted by his constant goading to move forward faster in his physical therapy.
He gave a glance to the wheelchair parked next to the door to his room, maddeningly out of reach. Then, he looked to the IV next to his bed–only a slow saline drip so he wouldn’t get dehydrated in the night. Tomorrow’s–or today’s physical therapy would be in the stupid pool–with the stupid guided breathing exercises and him floating on his back, staring just as uselessly up at a ceiling and breathing as he was now–no. He could do more. He had to do more. Every second he was stuck in this damned bed he could feel Hanzo getting further away, more of the Shimada clan slipping into the cracks. He couldn’t stay in here. He whipped the sheets off of the two stumps of his legs and he huffed. Right–they tended to take his leg blades off for lights-out. Granted, he did sleep easier with them off, but it was also a precaution against him trying to get up and hurting himself. He knew he had a spare pair in the physical therapy center.
He looked at his IV stand and then to the saline drip running into his remaining organic wrist.
“Kuso…” he whispered under his breath as the thumbs of his prosthetic hand uselessly brushed up against the tape, “Come on–” he managed to peel up one corner of the tape, “Ha!” getting overexcited, he ripped off that corner of the tape, leaving the IV still in his arm. He huffed. It took him another minute to grab another corner of the tape and slowly peel it back before he took a deep breath and summoned all of his focus to keep his prosthetic steady as it pulled the needle from his arm. He brushed the little bead of blood at his wrist off on his hospital gown and took ahold of the IV stand with his prosthetic. It lifted off the ground surprisingly easily. A few twists and Genji was able to extend the IV stand to its full height. Steadying it with his organic hand, he reached across the room over to the wheelchair, wedged the hook of it in one of the spokes of the wheelchair’s wheels, and started pulling.
 The brakes of the wheelchair were in place so it squeaked and groaned across the floor as he pulled it over. It surprised him a bit how strong the prosthetic was. He set the IV stand back upright, then adjusted the wheelchair next to his bed, propped himself up on his arms and pushed himself over into the wheelchair with a heavy exhale. His heart was thumping–the urge to move was still itching under his skin, but he was aware now that, as Doctor Ziegler reminded him virtually every day, less body mass meant easier fatigue. He took the brake off and wheeled to the door, taking the little clip-on ID badge off of the pocket of his hospital gown and holding it to the door’s panel.
“Not Authorized,” the door responded automatically and he swore again. Doctor Ziegler let him wheel all over the place during the daytime, but considering the fact that he would probably be in prison right now if Overwatch didn’t scoop him up, he couldn’t really blame them for not letting him sneak out at night. He glanced over at her desk in the corner, where a computer was keeping more detailed track of his vitals. He wheeled over to the desk and rifled through the drawers.
“There you are,” he said, pulling out Mercy’s ID tag. He had noticed she kept spare key cards ferreted away in certain spots around the Watchpoint–in case she forgot hers or needed to lend one to someone who forgot theirs… always thinking of others, that Angela. He held the key card to the door panel and the door slid open. Pocketing Doctor Ziegler’s key card, he wheeled out into the halls. It would have been eerie, but he found it peaceful. He could see the mountains from his own window, but there was something a bit more thrilling in seeing the mountains roll past as he wheeled through the hallway. Their white-painted peaks were blue in the moonlight. He knew the path to the physical therapy center well. He used Mercy’s key card to take the elevator up a few levels, rolled down a few more halls bordering the courtyard, and used Mercy’s key card to open a door leading out onto an open-air walkway. The night breeze of the mountains hit him hard and a huff escaped him as he wheeled quickly across the walkway to another door, opening that one with Mercy’s keycard, and rolling through as soon as it opened, closing it behind him.
“So…” said Genji rolling forward slightly in his wheelchair, “We meet again.”
He was addressing the two parallel bars that stood at roughly waist-height in the center of the physical therapy room.
“You’re not getting the better of me,” he said, to those bars, wheeling over to where his spare leg blades were in a locker (opening that cubby with Ziegler’s card as well), “Not tonight.” He strapped on his leg blades and wheeled back over so that his wheelchair was positioned between the two bars. He took a deep breath and set one leg blade against the floor, then another, then braced his hands down on the bars and with a grunt pushed himself up and out of his wheelchair. He was breathing heavily as he steadied himself with his arms.
“Okay,” his breath was huffing, “Standing. You can stand.” He knew his arms were doing most of the work here, though, “And if you can stand, that means you can walk.” He gritted his teeth and pushed his leg forward, “You… can… walk,” he told himself. He dragged one leg forward and huffed. Okay shuffling. Shuffling wasn’t that far off. He moved between the length of the bars, putting the majority of his weight on his arms but moving forward.
“Hands forward. Hips between your hands. Hands forward. Hips between your hands,” he spoke the words as a mantra to himself as he moved forward until he reached the end of the bars, “HA!” his excitement was short lived as he realized he would have to turn around. Well that was fine. He was a pro at turning around at this poi–
He miscalculated in shifting his weight between and slipped. The floor was padded beneath him and he caught himself with his hands still on the bars, but still, he grunted. “Stupid,” he muttered, “You’re better than this.” He moved to haul himself back on his feet but found his arms shaking with weakness at this point.
“No–come on!” he tried to will more strength into his arms.
Well now you’ve done it, a bitter voice spoke inside of him, Maybe you should crawl back to your wheelchair and roll back to your room before any of the night nurses know you’re gone.
No. No, he didn’t roll all the way out here and probably put himself on probation with Doctor Ziegler and all of Overwatch just to crawl back in defeat. His hands still gripping the bar. He tried to pull himself up again but just grunted and exhaled. He took a few steadying breaths, Please, he thought, Please help me. I can’t do it without you.
He opened his eyes to see green light spiraling around his arms, filling them with strength. Controlling his breathing, he hauled himself to his feet and braced both arms on the bars to stabilize himself. He looked to the green light spiraling around him. “Thank you,” he said very softly. A dragon’s head only as big as his thumb materialized on his wrist as if to give him acknowledgement before dissolving back into the ribbons of green light spiraling around his body.
The clan elders would probably be going mad to see me stooped to using you like this, thought Genji, looking at the light, But then again, neither of us were very good at following their rules, were we? 
He pushed forward again, leg blade still dragging against the floor.
He pushed another leg forward. We can do this, he thought, Lift up. lift up one foot– 
He brought the leg blade up off the ground and his breath caught in his throat.
The door slid open and his head jerked up to see Doctor Ziegler in the doorway. Not even in her lab coat, she was in sweats and a holey university crew neck with her hair up in a lopsided top-knot. She looked like she had just sprinted out of bed—and she probably had. Genji could see the dragon’s light reflecting in those big eyes of hers as she stared at him, stunned.
“Doctor Ziegler, I can explain–” he brought his hands up off the bars and she gasped and took a few quick steps forward.
But he didn’t stumble. He looked down at his leg blades, standing balanced on the ground. His hands were shaking as the light of the dragon faded off of him.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“My comm gets pinged if someone not matching my biometrics uses my keycard. I looked at the last place it was pinged and… How are you doing that?” she looked at him up and down as he put one hand on the bars to stabilize himself.
“You did say progress was coming along much faster then anticipated,” said Genji.
“I–I know but—even in the top percentages of recovery speed for injuries this severe, it should be weeks–months before you should be able to…”
“I don’t have weeks or months,” said Genji, still bracing his hands on the bars, but grunting a little as he pushed forward, closing the distance between them.
“Genji you don’t have to–” she took another few brisk steps forward and they all but bumped into each other between the two parallel bars. Genji had been so used to looking up at her from hospital beds and wheel chairs, it caught him off-guard to have her nose so close to his at this level. He also became acutely aware of how sweaty he was from all the strain of wheeling over here and struggling between the bars with her this close. Still, he tightened his jaw.
“I do have to,” said Genji, “I have to bring down the Shimada clan. I have to k-” he caught himself.
“…Kill Hanzo?” Mercy finished the thought and he huffed and glanced off. 
“You have to let me do this,” said Genji, “I won’t know any peace cooped up in this infirmary. You know that.”
“You won’t find any peace in killing things either!” Mercy snapped at him, “The second you prove healthy enough for Reyes to put you on his team you’re going to–You’ll—”
“…do what I’m best at,” said Genji. He wobbled a bit where he stood and Mercy quickly and easily positioned herself to support his weight. “Whatever Reyes will have me do, it can’t be any worse than what the Shimada clan had me doing before.”
Mercy’s lips were pursed. “They won’t just be releasing you from my care, they’ll be putting you in with Blackwatch’s cyberneticists.”
“So I’ll get better legs than these ones,” said Genji, looking down at his leg blades. 
Mercy looked down at the leg blades as well and pursed her lips. “Their methods…” she started but trailed off.
 “Hey,” Genji spoke and she looked up at him, “I’ll be fine! I’m already fine! Look!” he brought his hands up from the bars.
“Be careful–!” Mercy started but Genji took a successful step backward from her and only wobbled a little. 
 “See?” said Genji.
Mercy pressed her hand to her forehead and pushed a few stray hairs from her topknot back. “Genji–I saw those lights earlier–I… I don’t understand what they are, but I do know last time you… brought that…that thing….”
“Dragon.”
“Dragon,” Mercy repeated, still feeling a little crazy every time she said it, “Last time you brought that dragon out, it was to keep yourself from dying. So you can understand my concern at you pushing yourself like this.”
“I wouldn’t be pushing myself if you weren’t holding me back,” muttered Genji.
“I’m not holding you back, Genji! I’m following normal medical procedure! You shouldn’t even be here! What if you hurt yourself?!”
“Well it’s a good thing I’m in a fucking infirmary, isn’t it?!” Genji snapped right back at her. He wobbled and flailed for the bar but Mercy caught him easily. They were both short of breath, Mercy, holding him secure with one arm around his waist. Genji was gritting his teeth. She was silent. 
“I’m sorry. I’m… I’m so tired, Doctor Ziegler,” Genji’s voice was taut, on the edge of breaking.
“Well, that’s why we have to take it slow, Genji, build up stren–”
“I just wanted to walk again,” Genji’s voice cracked a little. The reverberation of the cybernetics in his throat managed to catch the pitch.
“You’re doing incredibly well, Genji…” Mercy said quietly, “I know it’s frustrating and painful. But… you… you are probably the most strong-willed person I’ve ever met. And believe me, I know some of the most stubborn bastards in the world, working here. You will get better. I know you will. But we have to work together for that.”
Genji’s eyes were shining. She couldn’t tell if he was holding back tears or if it was from all of his exertion just moving around to get here.
“We…” Mercy took a deep breath, “We can use the hydrotherapy session tomorrow–well, today, to rest up before we start you on crutch training. I don’t want you straining yourself too much after all you put yourself through here.”
“Crutch training?” said Genji.
“You’ll be on your feet more often. We’ll keep a wheelchair nearby, just in case,” said Mercy, “I am wheeling you back to your room, though. You know it’s nearly 5 in the morning, right?”
Genji huffed a little, “Understandable,” he said, still leaning on her. He looked over at the wheelchair at the other end of the parallel bars.
“I can help you—” Mercy started hoisting him up.
“Wait–” said Genji and Mercy paused. Genji pushed away from her only slightly, she braced his forearms in her own.
“Are you sure?” Mercy looked at his leg blades as Genji swayed a bit to get a better gauge on his weight distribution with them.
“Yes,” said Genji.
 Mercy kept their arms braced together, she walked backwards as Genji stepped clumsily forward. They walked the length of the parallel bars together before Mercy helped Genji take a slumping seat back into his wheelchair. 
“That was good!” she said, the most cheeriness in her voice he had heard all night.
“You think so?” said Genji.
“I don’t think you’ll be using the crutches too long,” said Mercy with a smile. 
Genji smiled and eased up in the wheelchair as she turned him toward the door. “Oh–before I forget.” She held her hand out to him.
“What?” said Genji.
“Key card,” said Mercy.
Genji rolled his eyes and handed her key card over. She passed the card next to the door panel and walked him out into the night. She shuddered as a breeze hit them on the walkway, and quickly entered the other building where a long stretch of hallway laid out before them, all periwinkle in pre-dawn light.
“Hey…” said Genji, “Can you run really fast down this hall? Just… wheel me as fast as you can.”
“Genji, that is pointlessly dangerous and ridiculously immature,” said Mercy.
She took off in a run.
60 notes · View notes
nobodies-png · 6 years
Note
what do the organisation do in their free time- fornite dances
.Okay listen this ask has been sitting here catching dust cause I had an existential crisis trying to think of what the fuck Xigbar would do in his free time. sO AFTER READING THE ENTIRETY OF THE 358/2 MANGA, I THINK I CAN ANSWER THIS PROMPT NOW 
Xemnas : 
I can only see this guy planning world domination in his free time and nothing else. Like sometimes he just sits down and thinks about weird cryptic and vague stuff to say during meetings.
Okay maybe he also just goes down into the basement to rant and complain about the other members to Aqua’s armor. And play chess a lot, but only by himself cause everyone’s too much of a pussy to play against their superior.
Xigbar : 
Sleep and spy on others. That’s it. That’s all I got. The whole fandom just sees him as a smooth dude, pranking and going out his way to annoy the rest of the organization and honestly ? y e a h I can see him doing that, but then he’d totally just sleep for the rest of the day and complain about “being too old for this shit”.
All of my friends say he’d be the type to just kick babies around for funsies so there. I added it here, are you happy ?
Xaldin : 
Okay, hear me out. We all know “Feelings are for the weak” Big Bad Xaldin - but the 2008 memes were right, guys. He’s into cooking. He’d probably a shitty excuse like “we need a nutritious diet and stay in good shape to complete our mission” but everyone knows better than that. The life of a Nobody is b o r i n g and there’s no harm in taking a few hobbies here and there, no one’s judging you buddy.
I can also see him being into psychology, just hoarding all these books about the human psyche and emotions.
Vexen : 
Free time ? W h a t free time ? This guy spends his entire non-existence researching and working on his experiments. Need more powerful potions? Upgrade your weapon in the most efficient way ? Any type of information about a certain type of heartless or world ? M O R E REPLICAS ? ? ? Say no more, he’s waaaaay ahead of you. 
If he’s not working his ass off, then he either passed out or he’s just chewing someone out, scolding them and letting the entire castle know that they should respect him.
Lexaeus : 
Puzzles, riddles, reading… All the common things a normal person would do if they didn’t had internet. Lexaeus is such a chill dude, I bet he’d be the perfect game partner if you ever wanted to play something like, I dunno, j e n g a. 
You’d expect a calm guy like him to be extremely good at those games, but he actually fucking s u c k s. He might also be into writing haikus. Or bird watching ! Okay this is too wholesome, imagine this big guy having that one Beauty and the Beast moment with the birds. Yeah, you’re welcome.
Zexion :
Reading. Yeaaaaahh, this one was pretty obvious. Zexion’s natural habitat is the library - if he’s not out doing missions, he’s definitely holed up in there just reading and reading, losing track of time. Everyone has been tasked to drag him out the library at least once because he’s often late to meetings.
Probably tried to start a literature club to discuss books and shit, but only a few Dusks, Lexaeus and Demyx joined. Lexaeus because he’s a Good Friend and Demyx because he could use the club as an excuse to avoid work - which caused Zexion to kick him out. 
Saix : 
Because of his “No Fun Allowed” policy, he probably just does extra work during his free time. As the second in command, he has to be on top of his shit or else there would’t be any progress. Like Roxas, he probably has a diary - but it’s less of a personal thing and more of a fucking log because you know how Saix is.
I think he unconsciously likes to stargaze. Like he’d just be filing reports and shit, only to space out and look at the moon and the stars for hours. For the love of god, if you value your life, don’t ever call him out on that.
Axel : 
Axel is such a good big bro and friend that he literally spends all of his free time with Roxas and Xion. He takes them to interesting places he finds while he’s out on missions and just loves seeing their reactions to any new thing he shows them.
Like before Roxas and Xion joined, all he did was just hang out with Saix (who just kept telling him to get back to work) or sleep and rest. Now he has these two friends that make him feel like a kid during summer vacation again. I’m not crying, you are -
Demyx : 
Slack off and play his sitar. Demyx probably tried to start a fucking one man band, only to realize that maybe it’s not the best idea - so he probably dragged in a bunch of Dancer Nobodies to tag along. Hell, he probably even taught them how to properly dance.
Because he’s still attached to whatever life he had as a Somebody, he daydreams and reminisces a lot, thinking and repeating old memories over and over. Demyx wouldn’t know what to do if he were to forget his past life, which is why he pities Roxas and Xion.
Luxord : 
You bet this guy likes making bets behind everyone’s backs (ha H, gET IT. P U N S). He preaches a lot about taking risks when gambling, but Luxord is one sly fox - only betting when he knows he’s gonna win or cheat his way to victory. This might also be the reason almost no one wants to play cards with him.
He only has two moods : drinking tea peacefully while reading a good book or spending all of his time in Port Royal, meddling with p i r a t e s and whatnot.
Marluxia : 
The idea of Marluxia just having a little (or not so little, considering how extra he can be) zone in the castle dedicated just to g a r d e n i n g is adorable. “Yeah, i’m planning to overthrow the organization and kill whoever gets in my way. But first I need to water my begonias.”
It seems u n l i k e l y but hey, these are my headcanons and I would kill for them. Like Xemnas, he would spend his free time planning his e v i l schemes or evil speeches for the occasion.
Larxene : 
When she’s not lashing out at whoever dared to piss her off, she probably does her nails. Like they’re so on point she could use them to replace her weapons. And speaking of weapons, she totally practices her aim with the poor Dusks that just roam around the castle.
Despite her coquettish and vain exterior, Larxene is actually rather smart. She could probably hold a conversation with Vexen if the two didn’t hate each other. In her free time, she also reads ! But it’s either horror manga or heavy physlosophical literature, there’s no inbetween.
Roxas & Xion :
I put them together cause they’re literally glued by the hip. If you see one of them around, there’s no doubt that the other is also close. Their favorite thing to do in their free time is hang out with Axel and just plan about their future adventures together - yes, you’re crying again, not me.
Whenever Axel’s not around, they like to explore other worlds on their own and bring back little trinkets for the other members. They can all speak about being emotionless, but no one has the heart to actually throw away said little gifts.
96 notes · View notes
knowfromme-blog · 5 years
Text
5 Paid Life & Money Apps That Are Actually Worth The Money
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not too long ago, I wrote an article for TFD all about the fabulous free apps that attend me manage my health. And while I try to be as frugal as possible when using mobile apps, there are a select few that I’ve found really enact warrant the price tag. 
Here’s my breakdown of which ones made the slice:
1. Buddhify ($4.99; one-time purchase) Buddhify is a really glowing meditation app. It was recommended to me by a facilitator of a DBT skills group I took last year, and I’m so gay that I found it. It’s pretty unique in its layout — the way you pick a meditation is via its Wheel. There are 12 different options on the multi-colored wheel, with topics like Meditation 101, Stress & Difficult Emotion, Traveling, Going to Sleep, etc.  To be honest, I had a bit of a learning curve with this layout — I wasn’t used to categorizing the type of meditation I wanted before playing it. But once I got the hang of it, the process totally changed the way I meditate. Now, before meditating via Buddhify, I pause to consider what exactly I’m trying to accept out of my practice: enact I need something short to pass the time while on the train? Am I feeling stressed and need to find a way to unexcited down?  Taking the time to ask such questions allows me to maximize the benefits of my practice — I can choose the perfect recording for any moment. After a while, you’ll find your preferred tracks, which you can “Favorite” and save for easy reference. I particularly be pleased the Traveling and Walking tracks, which offer meditations specifically designed to be used on the disappear. I’ve yet to find another meditation app with such multi-purpose tracks.  I also really appreciate the fact that Buddhify is a quality app, but only asks for a one-time payment. Other, more expensive apps (i.e. Headspace) charge on a subscription-based model, which adds up over time. I like that I only had to invest $6.99 (CAD) up-front and can continue using the app for years to advance.  2. DailyPocket, formerly DailyPay ($5.99 premium version; one-time purchase) DailyPocket is a budgeting app that I’ve mentioned in TFD articles before. Although I employ many tools — such as my bank’s mobile app, or even Mint — to accept overviews of my spending habits, this itsy-bitsy app has served me well. Its premium version is 100% worth its weight in gold.  The concept is fabulous: you set a weekly budget, personalize a list of spending categories, and manually enter your purchases as you disappear. Then, the app calculates handy numbers — like how many days are left in the week, how much money you should spend each day to stay within your weekly budget, and what percentage of your weekly budget you’ve spent so far. You can also see visual breakdowns of your spending in the form of pie charts.  I’m not very wonderful at math (or spreadsheets), so this app does a lot of the work for me. I treasure being able to see exactly how much money I can spend for the rest of the week — it takes the guesswork out of budgeting. It kind of blends the process of manually entering expenses into a spreadsheet or journal, but combines that with the convenience of digital tools. I like to employ this app mainly for my weekly disposable income, and I employ other means to calculate larger figures (like my monthly savings, debt repayment, etc.). Again, this app only requires a one-time purchase, which makes its cost-per-employ very, very low. 3. The modern York Times Digital Access ($4 per month currently; promotional rate) When I first tried quitting social media for wonderful, I realized that there was a gap in my daily routine — I had been using Facebook to sustain up with a lot of daily news, from pages I’d followed and friends’ written posts. Without that constant stream of information, I needed a solid way to sustain up with current events.  Personally, I be pleased reading The modern York Times for the bulk of my news. I like the fact that it includes plenty of progressive ideas, but also has a healthy dose of conservative viewpoints. Even though I’m very left-wing in my beliefs, I find it useful to hear opposing perspectives in order to challenge my own ideas and understand their counter-points. I got a promotional offer that allows me to pay $4 per month for digital access, which has been totally worth it. Reading the NYT truly enriches my life, allowing me to sustain up with the news while also enjoying some leisure reading. If you’re trying to limit your social media usage, I’d definitely recommend trying this strategy out — find a reputable news source that you genuinely be pleased reading, and purchase a subscription (bonus points if you can find a promotional rate, which most publications will offer to modern readers!).  In the age of information overload, it can be refreshing to sit down and read wonderful journalism, instead of just scrolling through social media and taking in a haphazard selection of posts (most of which are probably not fact-checked). 4. QuickBooks Self-Employed ($7 per month currently; promotional rate) If you’re a freelancer or otherwise self-employed, I’m sure that you can sympathize with the hassle that is organizing your books and tax documents. There are many upsides to working for yourself, but having to prepare all of your famous financial documents is not one of them. When I first started freelancing, I found that I was getting indolent with record-keeping, which often meant that I was missing out on claiming real business expenses at the halt of the year. So, I ended up purchasing a subscription to QuickBooks Self-Employed (the Canadian edition), and it has been a valid lifesaver. It’s allowed me to sustain track of my accounting, book-keeping, and tax preparation pretty much on autopilot. I simply link my bank accounts/credit cards, etc., and the program automatically imports all of my transactions, which I can then brand as Business or Personal (I am a sole proprietorship, so this helps sustain things separate). I can also import images of receipts for cash transactions — the app then automatically reads the info and imports the data.  This software lets me enjoy a clear overview of my total net income per month, year, etc., and easily organizes all of my tax documents for the halt of the year. There are other options out there — like hiring an accountant or tax professional, or doing everything manually — but for me, this is what works best, and it is cost-effective. The app allows me to stay organized, and to avoid the hassle of doing lots of math (this seems to be a theme in my life), so the monthly price-tag is worth it. 5. Spotify Premium — Family ($4.99 per month; $14.99 price split three ways with family members) Lastly, I enact pay for Spotify Premium. My family members and I split this between the three of us, so we each contribute $4.99 per month. While Spotify isn’t the most novel service, it does enrich my life. I’ve tried free music apps, and I’ve also used the media apps offered through my public library, but they simply aren’t comprehensive or user-friendly enough for my needs. Shelling out the $4.99 is worth it to me, as a former musician who does really appreciate the act of listening to wonderful music. It adds a lot of joy to my days, allowing me to rock out in the shower, in my room, or even with headphones on the bus. And I like the offline mode, which saves me data charges on my phone bill. You could certainly trim this app from your budget if you were really trying to save, but at this point in my life, the subscription fee is manageable and seems reasonable for the enjoyment I accept out of it on a daily basis. Sometimes the itsy-bitsy pleasures in life really are worthwhile. What are your favorite paid apps? enjoy you slice certain ones from your budget, or added others? Let us know in the comments. Mercedes Killeen is a Toronto-based professional author and editor. You can purchase her book of poetry, tulips, at greyborders.com and order her freelance services at fiverr.com/killeenm. Image via Unsplash Like this narrative? Follow The Financial Diet on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for daily tips and inspiration, and sign up for our email newsletter here.
Tumblr media
!function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) {if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function(){n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments)}; if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=;t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e); s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)}(window, document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1864103540333553'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); Read the full article
1 note · View note